The Humorist: A Companion for the Christmas Fireside

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33151 4

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Ki?ox Library

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THE HUMOURIST,

A COMPANION FOB. TBE CHRISTMAS FIRESIDE.

BT

W. H. HARRISON,

xoToaa, or •• talma or jl rmrstcsAvr ate.

tfiijainio »Y

EIGHTY ENGRAVINGS,

DE&IGinEO AND EXECUTBD BY W. H. BROOKE.

T«n vs a ttarj, «)I4 lUUa Qnf,

This merry CtatitUnas time :
We arc all in oar glery* le t^ as a stotji

Eidwr in pvHe «r ttjmm.

QovTUKt*

LONDON:
PUBLISHED BY R. ACKERMANN, 96, STRAND ;

▲NO SOLO-BT

R. ACKERMANN, JUN. Ids liEGENf? STRffiT.

^ ; '

M.DCCC.XXXU.

» - J - * ' * «; ^ '

■* ' ■> >

LONDON:

J. M0YC8, CABTEJI 8TBSIT» LSICC8TKR SiJUARB.

« rf « • • •

» T ■> ,

• «

•» • ••

« « « V

*•- V

PREFACE.

Webe the Author, after having so frequently
presented himself in the arena of letters, to
repeat his apology for the intrusion in this
instance, he would, probably, obtain as little
credit for sincerity as certain other performers,
whose affection for the Public leads them to
convert a tragedy into a farce, by taking a
*' last farewell " of their *' patrons " every year.

Addressing himself, therefore, to a more
grateful duty, he eagerly embraces this occasion
to express his deep sense of the indulgence of
the Public, and the liberality of the critical
Press, both metropolitan and provincial, to
which he is bound to attribute the success,
that (notwithstanding some annoyances from
pirates) attended The Humourist in the pro-

fecutioa of her first voyage. In that encou-
ragement must be found hia excuse for ap-
pearing with another

In the Preface to the former Volume,
he anticipated a comparison between himself
and a prominent figure in the Frontispiece,

FBEFACS« Til

and be apprehends that fae shall not escape
on the present occasion. He neither claims
nor merits exemption from the common lot
of Authors. Like the animal in the first il-
lustration of this Number, he has found his
path an up-hill one, and the attempt to draw
a multitude, with so many conflicting senti-
ments, laborious. He has had great critics
on his backf and small ones upon his withers ;
while the shafts of censure have galled his
sides. Could he, however — to carry the simile
not farther, but back, that is to the tail of the
car — dare to hope that, like the Irishman with
the uplifted shilelah, he is about to make a hit,
he should forget his past labours in the pro-
spect of future reward.

The Writer acquits himself of a duty in
acknowledging the zealous co-operation of the
Artist to whose talents he is indebted for the
Embellishments, — in reference to which, it is
presumed, that, whatever sentence may be

paBsed on the literary department, the reader
will say with Falstafi^

* Good Master Brooke, I desire more acquaintance of you."

The Author concludes with a hope, sag-
gested by the subjoined vignette, that there ate
guests with Tales, whose visits may be worse
timed and less welcome than those of The
Hdmourist.

CONTENTS.

PAOB

Christmas 3

The Cares of Corpulence ....,.•.. • • . 9

The Zoologist 24

Blue Bess; a Tale of the Sea 34

Dick Dowlas ..^.... 51

The Veterans 61

Heart for Heart ; or, O'Slaughter's Courtship .... 72

The Bull and the Barber 81

Taming a Tartar • 88

Black and White 97

The Two Adjutants 113

Tlie Monk ofSt.Dominick , 137

The False One ; a Modem Sappho's Lament .... 167

The Governess ....•• 173

A Royal Visit 189

Tbe Abbot!s Kitchen ; or, Laying a Ghost 202

Reform 228

More Copy 1 234

Love in the East 255

The Brothers 265

Postscript ... 277

PLATES.

PAOB

1. Emigration, Frontispiece ii

2. A Collection of Tales vi

3. Fille de Chambre viii

4. Twelfth Night Characters 2

5. Highland Fling 6

6. Lightly Tread 8

7. Captain Kitely 16

8. Fast and Loose 19

9. The Master of the Rolls 23

10. Fish, Flesh, and Fowl 25

11. Polyphemus 2§

12. Tail-Piece 33

13. Epicene 35

14. Spirits mounted and under Arms 41

15. Mountain Dew 43

16. This is my own, my native Land I 48

17. Rufus Knights 50

18. Don Quixote 53

19. Comic and Tragic Muse 58

20. Ben Block and Tom Starboard 60

21. Taking care of the main Chance 63

22. Horse Marine 66

23. Will Watch 71

24. Quarter-Master General , 73

PLATES. XI

PAOB

25. Bubble and Squeak 78

26. A Pair of Bellows 80

27. Cock-a-Hoop 87

28. Hair-dressing 89

29. Selfish Beings 94

30. Crossing the Line 96

31. Jacobinical 103

32. The Negropont 107

33. Under the Line 110

34. The Two Adjutants 112

35. A Quadruped 116

36. A Military Figure among Ciphers 119

37. Mississippi 121

38. Nagpoor 123

39. Cuddalore 132

40. Missilonghi 134

41 . Preparatory Study : 136

42. Incubus 145

43. Robin Hood and Little John 154

44. Passing the Rubicon 162

45. Hum-Drum 164

46. A Sinister Look ."^ 166

47. Lalla Rookh 170

48. Animal Enjoyment 172

49. Garter King at Arms 178

50. Plymouth 186

51. Aeronauts ; 188

52. Blow high, blow low 194

53. Odd Fish 195

54. The Green Man 199

• •

XU PLATES.

PAOB

55i< Falstaff 201

56. Lime Juice 203

57. Waterloo Veterans 208

58. Irish Labourers 213

59. Pugnapro Patri& 220

60. Coil and Recoil 227

61. Colossus ofRhodes 229

62. Connecticut 233

63. Embarkation 235

64. Tlie Scenters and Lapiths 244

65. Spring Time 246

66. Lictor, a Beadle 248

67. Heir-at-Law 252

68. Tant Mieux 254

69. Indian Rubber 257

70. Entre Nous 259

71. Heavy Wet 262

72. Messieurs Gall and Spurzheim 264

73. Paradise and the Peri 266

74. Kenilworth 268

75. Role d'Equipage 270

76. Nymph and Pan 272

77. Craniology 274

78. Regiment of the Line at drill 276

79. Pegasus 278

80. Pennsylvania 282

81. A Brother of the Angle 284

I

THE HUMOURIST.

CHRISTMAS.

Thric£ welcome, Christmas! maugre thine ap-
proach

Be mark'd by skies somewhat too cold and
murky;
I hail thy harbinger, the Norwich coach,

Laden, inside and out, with chine and turkey,
And sausage by the fathom. Thou hast other

Attendants on thy state, in liveries rich.

Green, red, and blue, a family of which
The Humox;rist is but the younger brother;
Who, while transcendent many a rival shines.
Still hopes the world will smile on his designs;
Though some like none but China plates^ and

sigh
For that much-relished Annual, a mince pie.

B

4 GHKI8TMAS.

And yet, mine ancient crony, 'tis with pain
I mark some members absent from thy train,
Who, in good days of yore, were wont to swell
it.
Where is Snap-draook? all extinguish*d —

vanished!
Where mystic Mistletoe? unfairly banbh'd.

To grace the kitchen, and I live to tell it!
Where's Blind Man's Buff? alas! thismarcl}

of mind,
With all its boasted blessings, hath refined

Us out of half our former recreations !
Where is old Hunt the Slipper? with the

snow
Which melted many, many years ago.

Where Forfeits, paid (I hate alliterations)
In cunning Cupid's current coinage kisses?
Despatch'd to Coventry by modem misses.

Where are the Country Dances, once pro-
moted
To such distinction in our revels ? Voted

Old fashion'd as the Laird of Balmawhapple.
" Cast off," " Poussette," the modish belle de-
rides.
As figures rude as Runic ones; '' Change Sides"
Is practised only in St. Stephen's Chapel.

CHillSTMAS. 5

Where is, I ask, our quondsm frieiidy the Reel,
Once footed to the liveliest of tones ?

Scom'd e'en by shopmen as most *^ nngenteel/'
And left to Highlander and Cherokee,

Who, though in most things else they disagree,

Concur in their contempt for pantaloons.

But I must quit the subject, lest, in fact, I
Become that bore, laudator temporis oc^t:
And, since the March of Intellect, the thief,
Hath left us our plum-pudding and roast beef,

Methinks 'twere scareely wisdom to repine *
And, courteous reader, whosoe'er thou art.
Gallant, or lovely, mayst thou bear a part

Full oft in Christmas festivals, and thine
Be health and joy and many a jocund meeting ;

For 'tis a merry season, and in sooth
It glads the heart to see the cordial greeting

Of friend with friend, and mark the smile of
youth
Reflected on the wrinkled brow of age.
Oh ! could I feel that this my humble page.

When at the festive board the story lags,

When wit grows dull, and conversation flags,
Would fill the yawning chasm, and revive
The silenced laugh, and ** keep the game alive,**

CHaiSTUAS.

I would not giudge my toil, nor v^^a kept
By flickering taper while the world liatfa slept :
No, my kind public i be your sinile codferr'd on
My labours, and I ask no richer pierdon.

" LIOBTLY tasAD."

THE CARES OF CORPULENCE.

Sixteen years ago I was the thinnest and most
satisfied of created beings; and now I am what
Mr. Brooke, with a fidelity to which I am com-
pelled to bear melancholy testimony, has depicted
me in the first illustration of this article; that is
to say, a fine man, in the sense in which the
epithet is applied to the Bradwell ox.

I am the sixth child of parents who were rather
respectable than rich ; and, having made my^ ap-
pearance in this troublous world out of all season
— unexpected and undesired — was treated, as
are intruders of every description , with neglect.

I had an aunt, however, who could not com-
prehend why the circumstance of my being the
most helpless of my family should occasion me to
be the most oppressed; and having no children
of her own, and happening to prefer the human
face divine to that of a tom-cat or a monkey, she
conceived the laudable idea of rescuing me from
the clutches of a cross nursery-maid, three mis-
chievous brothers, and two tyrannical sisters,

b2

10 THB CARES OF CORPULENCE.

therein vindicating both her philanthropy and
her taste.

I was as pale as the paper I am defacing, and
thin almost to transparency, and being, there-
fore, voted delicate by my dear aunt and her
doctor, was indulged in every whim and fancy.
My constitution, however, I conceive, was a
better one than I had credit for ; since, notwith-
standing I had the run of the pantry and the
store closet, and made daily and indiscriminate
war upon cheese-cakes and Cheshire cheese, pies
and pickles, I passed through the years of my
childhood without any other inconvenience than
a dose of rhubarb and magnesia three times a
week.

My aunt was indulgent and liberal ; and, as
she could not make up her mind to send me to
school, provided me with the necessary instructors
at home, under whom, as I was not more stupid
than other urchins, I made as much progress as
could reasonably be expected from one who was
allowed to be the best judge of the nature and
duration of his lessons. In a few years, there^
fore, if I had not completed my studies, it be-
came high time to dismiss my masters; and as
my aunt, who wisely deemed that the sedentary
nature of a learned profession, and the chances

tH£ CARES OF CORFOLENCE. 11

of a ws^like one, were alike unfavourable to lon-
gevity, would not allow me to think of either, I
was, at the age of eighteen, the sparest and -most
dutiful of nephews, left to enact the gentleman,
and dispose of my time as I thought proper.

A man, however, must have some pursuit ; and
I was, at last, driven to the common resource of
the idle, and fell in love. The damsel was fair
and youthful, sensitive and sentimental, and
the kindest and most consistent of beings. She
had a dash of romance, too, in her composition,
preferring the delights and retirement of rural
life to all earthly things but the opera and the
last quadrille. She was humane to a fault ; she
would walk a mile out of her way, time permit-
ting, rather than tread upon a worm; was in
despair at the premature death of a fly in a tea-
cup ; and was passionately fond of crimped skate
and stewed eels.

Quick-sighted as I am to my own perfections,
I cannot account for the lady's partiality, ex-
cept on the grounds of my being of a genteel
figure, that is, slim as a fishing-rod, pale, and
therefore interesting ; while I quoted Byron and
Tom Moore with fluency and pathos, and, being
an idle man, was always at her command for a
lounge, when the rest of her male acquaintance

12 THB CARES OF COBPULEKCE.

were chained to the desk, or doing the magnifi-
cent on parade.

My dear aunt, however — peace and the bless-
ings of a grateful heart upon her cherished me*
mory ! — was suddenly taken from me, when I had
ju3t attained my one-and-twentieth year; and the
legacy which, out of the savings of her jointure
she was enabled to leave me, was totally inade-.
quate to my maintenance in the rank of life in
which I had lived. In this exigency I had re-
course to my father, supposing that, as he had
never done any thing for me since I was breeched,
I had a slight claim upon his good offices. He
thought so too, perhaps, and, therefore, ejcerted in
my favour his interest with a gentleman high in
the administration, who, having been materially
benefited by his influence in some electioneering
contests which were likely to be renewed, had
recently expressed the pleasure he should feel
in an opportunity of shewing his sense of the
service.

I, accordingly, waited upon the great man,
whom I found seated at breakfast, dividing his
toast between himself and his greyhound. Au-
guring well of his partiality for the leaner por-
tion of the creation, I presented my letter of
introduction. He received me very courteously.

THE CABES OF COBPULBKCE. 13

and condescended to inquire into the nature of
my previous habits and future views. I replied,
that, having been brought up to nothing, Iwas,
of course, fit for any thing.

Assenting to so self-evident a proposition, my
patron said that he thought he could venture to
promise me a commission in the marines. I
demurred, for I well knew the rule of promotion
in a service, in which the folly of waiting for
dead men's shoes is so strikingly illustrated, and
saw nothing very encouraging in the prospect of
being a sexagenarian first lieutenant.

He then meiitioned a civil appointment in
Sierra Leone, which he did not think his friend,
the colonial secretary, would refuse, on his recom-
mendation, to a gentleman of my respectability
and talents. I was overwhelmed with gratitude,
of course, but ventured to insinuate, that there
was a medium to be observed in all things, and
that the rapidity with which vacancies take place
in that colony was as objectionable as the un-
frequency of their occurrence in the marines.

With a smile and an elevation of the eyebrows,
which seemed to imply that he thought me some-^
what difficult to please, he stated, that the only
thing he had it in his power to propose to me
besides, was a situation i^hich, he just recollected,

14 THE C ABI8 OF CORPULENCE.

was vacant in the island of Ascension, and which
he would use his interest with the First Lord of ^
Admiralty to obtain for me. Any thing was better
than mortality or the marines ; so I closed with
my patron's offer, and, in three days, received
the official notification of my appointment.

It was heart-rending, doubtless, to part from
my dear Charlotte; but as marriage, on my slen-
der income, was entirely out of the question, we
agreed that there was nothing left for us but to
submit to destiny, and postpone our happiness
until I should obtain a better situation nearer
home, which, I was informed, three years good
behaviour in Ascension would ensure to me. I,
accordingly, commenced preparation for my de-
parture ; purveyed me eight suits of clothes of
the most fashionable cut and colours, with shirts
and night-caps ad infinitum, and every appendage
of the toilet in great perfection and variety.

My parting interview with Charlotte was truly
affecting : a hundred times did I pronounce the
fatal word '^ adieu !*' and as often return to give
and to receive assurances of eternal fidelity. At
last, however, I tore myself from the dear girl,
who, overwhelmed by her affliction, implored me
to be constant, and send her a Chinese fan and a
pair of Java sparrows.

THE CABES OF COftPaLEKCE. 15

The transport in which I embarked was a fast
sailer, though a little crank, and oar passage was
considered a remarkably fine one, that is, it
was short, but it was rather salt than sweet, for
we were under water nearly the whole of the way,
and I had never, either in my berth or out of it, a
dry thread upon me for four-and-twenty hours
together. Thus it happened that, at the end of
the voyage, I was as completely pickled as any
barrel of pork in the ship.

The first sight of Ascension is by no means
prepossessing to a man who looks at it as the
place of his future abode ; it being a misshapen
mass of volcanic matter, flung up in the middle
of the Atlantic, as black and barren as a cinder
heap, which nothing but political necessity, or a
shipwreck, could have made the residence of any
human being except an alderman, to whom the
turtle would, doubtless, prove attractive.

On landing, or rather disembarking, for there
was no land, that I could ever discover, in the
place, I found the establishment of the island to
consist of three melancholy officers, and a hand*
ful of men, under the command of a captain of
marines, an elderly person of course, fie was
a mild, gentlemanly veteran, with a peculiar,
though exceedingly good-hunioured ciist of coun-

16 THE CAKBB OV COKPULEKCE-

tenance, taperii^; off (o a poiat, in a maDiier
to which the pencil will do more justice than the
pen, and I therefore present the reader with a
portrait or

I was welcomed by the gallant captain and his
subalteraa with much courtesy and kindness; and,
as the last arrival from England, wrb, far some
days, an object of interest. The novelty, how-
ever, soon wearing off, I became a& great a bore
as the rest, and contributed my quota to the
common fund of ennui. The stock. jokeS of so
small a community soon lose their piquancy,
and a hearty laugh was as great a rarity among
us as a sail.

Out amusementa were chiefiy confined to

THE CAESS OF COBPULENCE. 17

smoking cberbots^ drinking wine and water,
and playing at chess on the sands. Our taedinm
was occasionally relieved by the arrival of a
homeward-bound East Indiainan, and an excur-
sion to hunt the wild goats which frequented the
mountains, although where they found suste-
nance, unless they browsed on each other's
beards, I am, to this hour, at a loss to con-
jecture.

I had never, previously to my departure from
England, troubled myself to make any inquiries
as to the population of the place to which I had
been appointed, and I was, th^efore, inexpres-
sibly chagrined when I discovered that the only
females on the island, before whom I could
parade my fashionable costume and genteel per-
son, were two sergeants' wives- and a negress.

My regrets, however, on this head were soon
absorbed by more serious causes of uneasiness ;
for I began to find that idleness and turtle steaks
have a marvellous tendency to fatten, — a circum*
stance which I was very reluctant in believing,
but I had soon other evidence of the fact than
the congratulations of my co-exiles. My buttons
and button-holes began to tear each other to
pieces, and, at last, were not to be reconciled on
any terms; so that, before I had been fifteen

18 THE CAVES OF COAFCLEKCE.

months in Ascension, the lapels of my coat
were under my arms, my trousers became j^an-
taloonSy and my tout ensemble was so grotesque,
that I was frequently mistaken, by strangers who
touched at the island, for one of the aborigbes
of the country.

The sketch of the turnstile is a happy, 1
should rather say, a melancholy illustrs^tion of
the superior facilities possessed by thin persons
over fat ones, In their progress through the world,
and the sequel of my history is corroborative, of
the feet.

At the end of two years, the most tedious m
my existence, I received a letter from home,
announcing that, by the death of a wealthy rela-
tive, to whom I had never spoken, I had been
made an independent gentleman ; my first acts is
which character were to resign my appointment,
and return to old England by the next vessel;
On my arrival, I flew, on the wings of love and
impatience, to Charlotte, who received me with
an exclamation indicative rather of surprise than
pleasure. I saw, at a glance, how the matter
stood. Fat, though well enough in a Cupid, is
not to be endured in a lovet; and my obesity,
I found, was as fatal to my suits at home, a^
it had proved to them in the Atlantic,

THE CABES OF COBPULEVCE. 21

I renewed my vows, but to no purpose. The
lady declined to proceed in the matter, alleging,
not that she had changed, but that I had. There
ivas no gainsaying it: I was indeed an altered
man, and no longer the thin, pale, romantic-
looking youth, to whom she had plighted her
faith. I had no medium of remonstrance but
the law, — the means expensive, the result un-
certain, — so I deemed it expedient to put up with
the first loss, and to resign the lady, who, three
months afterwards, united herself to six feet of
humanity, in the shape of a young guardsman, —
all legs, neck, and scarlet, like a flamingo.

I have lived to outgrow my disappointment,
but the cause of it remains, and is productive of
daily inconveniences and mortifications* I am
fond of skating, and, despite of my bulk, am no
indifferent performer. Having a desire to display
my proficiency to the fashionable world, I pro-
ceeded, the other day, to the Serpentine; but,
before I could make a few preliminary flourishes,
spectators and skaters fled from my perilous vi-
cinity in all directions, as if I had been an ogre
or a bailiff; so that, as far as exhibition was con-
cerned, I might as well have been teaching the
rudiments of arithmetic to white bears and wal-

22 TllB CARES OF CbHPUtENCE.

nises, by cutting figures of eight upon an ii
berg. ^,

I have also a great passion for excursions a
the river^ but am never able to make up a par^
among my friends, who allege, that it is utteri|
impossible to trim any craft smaller than a coat^
barge, with a man of my dimensions on boards ^ "^

As a concluding instance of the inconreniences
of corpulence, I wouM mention, that, happening
once to be in a house which had taken fire, I
rushed to the only channel of escape, namely, a
small window on the ground-floor, through which
the other inmates passed with facility and safety.
I, however, was arrested in transitUy having
been able to force only my head and shoulders
through the aperture; and had hot the foreman
of the Hope adroitly brought a stream of water to
bear upon that part of me which, to use a mili-
tary phrase, was exposed to a galling fire, the
consequences might have been serious. Owing^
however, to this hydropyric manceuvre, sufficient
time was gained to work my deliverance, by
breaking away the upper part of the sash ; and
thus, by the exertions of the Hope, I was rescued
firom the fate of the Phoenix.

I could swell my catalogue of the ^' Cares of

THE CABEBOF CO£FDI,KNC£. 33

■pnlence" to a volume, bat I lefmin, lest
dilations become us tiresome to the reader
:hey are inconvenient to myself.

THE ZOOLOGIST.

Sir Benjamin Bos, a rich loiight,
I remember a student at college ; he

In that science took wondrous delight,
Yclep'd by the learned Zoology.

In his rooms, when at Oxford, he pack'd

A host of expensive monstrosities,
Birds, fishes, beasts, insects, — in fact,

All sorts of defunct curiosities.

He had lizards and serpents, high-dried

Like Lundy Foot's snuff; — where he got 'em 1

Don't know ; and he sported beside
A stuff'd pair of young hippopotami.

When he came to his princely estate.
With an ardour which nothing could cure, he

Obtain'd, through his agents, a great
Importation o{ feres naturce.

To his senate of brutes, whence escape
Was met by all sorts of preventatives,

Two lions were sent from the Cape,
While the monkeys had six representatives.

THB ZOOLOGIST. 27

He'd a panther, two lynxes, three bears,

Of tigers a brace from Bengal,
Kangaroos and oppossums in pairs,

And a fierce-looking she-caracal.

Then of birds he'd a host ; an emu.
Of parrots a score, grey and green ;

A he and she-ostrich, and two
Of the largest macaws ever seen.

He'd a huge rattlesnake, and a second
Not so large, which in boxes were curl'd ;

And which, though so deadly they're reckoned,
Are the liveliest things in the world.

He'd a boa constrictor, in size

Not very convenient to make fast ;

He ate, or his captor tells lies,
A buffalo whole for his breakfast.

In short, reptile, quadruped, bird,

Sir Benjamin ransacked all climes for ;

Some with names which you scarce ever heard.
And more than my muse can find rhymes for.

They forgot, for some time, their old freaks.
Or were kept in such subordination,

That they all, for the first dozen weeks,
Were the best-behaved brutes in creation.

28 THE ZOOLOGIST.

Some turbulent spirits, at last,

Grew weary of roan for their master ;

Thus it happened that scarce a day pass'd
Unmark'd by some novel disaster.

First the boa escaped ; — 111 engage
You'll net guess how he did it, the elf !

Having first of all bolted his cage ^—
A small mouthful ! — he bolted himself.

From which fact and the stories some give
Of this species of serpent, 'twill follow,

A more gullible creature can't live,

Since there's nothing too large for his swallow.

The keepers, of course, were all set

The reptile's retreat to discover ;
They hunted till night came, and yet

No tidings were gain'd of the rover.

They had giv'n up the search, and the knight
Sought his room, on his evil stars railing ;

When he found not a chair placed aright.
But the greatest disorder prevailing.

" A slatternly hussy!" he said.

As he rang for the maid to convict her ;

When lo ! fast asleep on the bed,

Lay his friend, the lost boa constrictor.

f

THE ZOOLOGIST. 3t

I know not the method he took
To divorce the huge reptile d toro ;

fiut one thing is sure, he awoke
To fresh causes of grief on the morrow.

A young tiger had cleared at a bound
The wall of his yard, and the glutton

'Hid the flock of a neighbour was found,
Turning sheep very fast into mutton. .

Bat one day, to crown all, a baboon.
Who had managed to slip from his tether,

Stole the keys from the keeper, and soon
Let loose all his comrades together.

Some took to the garden, while some
Of more taste, made the house their election ;

Where the folks deem'd their last hour was come,
And fled in all ways for protection.

The cook-maid had almost paid dearly

For the knight's zoological folly, .
Since a hungry old wolf very nearly

Had fractured his fast upon Dolly.

A wild boar took the fields, where the brute

Remain'd for a short time perdu ;
Till a Nimrod, of no small repute.

Prepared with his train to pursue.

32 THE ZOOLOGIST.

With horsemani and stag-hoand, and horn,
The country he scour'd for a while ;

When the beast, who'd been hid in some com,
Broke cover in excellent style.

Haying run for some time, he stopp'd short;

" I've been trotting," said he, " I opine,
Some half-dozen miles for their sport ; —

They shall run a few furlongs for mine."

Forthwith, with an ominous grunt,

He tum'd, his pursuers to face ;
When those who were last in the hunt,

Became suddenly first in the race.

With no wish to be in at the death.
They all gallopp*d home to their wives;

And exclaimed, when they'd gain'd enough breath,
They were never so bored in their lives.

Meantime, the knight leaves his brute friends
To their fate without word of apology ;

And his course, in a chaise and four, bends
To the Bruton-street man of zoology.

<< You've some odd brutes around you, dear
Vigors,"
He said ; '^ now 's your season for matching
them ;

THE ZOOLOGIST. 33

For my lions, and lynxes, and tigers,

May be had for the trouble of catching them."

WbeibetV. took the beasts, as reported,

I don't know ; but if not, in auch fear of them

lived the knight, that he doubtless resorted
To some other means to get clear of them.

BLUE BESS,

A TALE OF THE SEA.

Elizabeth Dip, or Blue Bess, as, from the colour
of the flannel wrapper in which she pursued her
calling, she was familiarly termed, was a bathing
woman at a small watering-place on the coast of
Kent. Her origin is involved in great, obscurity,
and . therefore it is conjectured that, ~ like her
Cytherean prototype, she was bom of the froth
of her favourite element.

Elizabeth was as androgynous in her appear^
ance, as she was amphibious in her habits. Her
stature was gigantic, and her limbs perfectly
Herculean. She was stout, but not corpulent;
while her features, to use a scientific phrase, dis-
played considerable breadth of expression, and
were of a complexion that had defied the com-
bined attacks of time and weather for forty years,
during which it is affirmed by those who knew
her, that for that period she never appear-
ed to grow a day older. Her hair, which was
jet black, was unrestrained by comb or riband,

EPICENE.

mXt, 13SSS. 37

and, as Paddy woqM say, sh^ would oe^ainly
have bad a beard if ^he bad not shaved.

Tbe epicene character o€ our heroine's external
was not, however, heightened by any affectation
of masculine imumer; on the contrary, she as-
s^i^d her danns to the appellation of one of the
fsdr sex, by wearing a string of beads as large as
billiard balls, and, in either ear, a ring which, in
point of size, would have beai a more appro-
priate adjunct to a kedge anchor.

In deference to her sex, I should have passed
over Elizabeth's attachment to smoking; but as
Mr. Brooke has furnished the reader with evi-
dence of the fact frcnn her own lips, I will
e-en make a clear breast of it, and eonfess that
she also drank; and that her potations were
somewhat of the strongest, although, to the cre-
dit of her sobriety be it recorded, they were con-
fined exclusively to Bohea.

The terrific strength of the elephant is, in a
manner, neutralised by the docility and rtiildness
of his disposition ; nor was the lai!nented and
slandered Chuny an exception to the rule, inas-
much as it has been proved, that the irregu-
larities of his latter days were attributable, not
to temper, but to the toothache. Blue Bess was
as happily distinguished by her pacific habits,

38 BLUE BESS*

and, although, somewhat of an econOmiat ii:\
words, was civil and obligiqg, as well to her
neighbours as her customers.

With fear she seemed to have not the .remotest
personal acquaintance, for, although she locked
up the stable containing the Rosinante. with
which she navigated her bathing-machine, al-
leging that some graceless fellow might run away
with it, she felt assured, that, at her years,^ few
would make .the like experiment on herself.
Accordingly, she neglected the usual precaution
orher neighbours, and commonly slept with her
door open in the summer, and upon the latch
in the winter ; while of blunderbuss or .pistol
she had little need, since, as the reader will per-
ceive by a glance at her portrait, she had every
reason to be satisfied with the wms with which
nature had provided her.

On one occasion, however, a clerk of St. Ni-
cholas, not having the fear of Lord Althorp's tax
on transfers before his eyes, and knowing her to
be a " lone woman," made an effort at the pro-
prietorship of a certain sum of money, which
Elizabeth was reported to have . saved. Our
heroine, it seemed, on the night in question,
ha4 retired late, to rest; and being, obliged to
rise at day-break, had not made her evening

BLUE BESS. 39

toilet, but lay down to sleep in her ordinary
habiliments.

< The rogue, having searched in vain for the
depository of her treasure, resolved, at last,
on applying at once to the most authentic
source for information on the subject; and,
accordingly, giving the sleeping beauty a shake,
he addressed her with ** If you don't tell me
where you keep your mon — " but ** vox fauci-
bus hcesit" by reason of Betty's thumb upon his
windpipe, effectually destroying all communica-
tion between his thoughts and utterance.

" Where do I keep my money, quotha ? why
in the savings bank, to be sure, you thief, as
safely as you will be in the cage before sunrise.*'
So saying, she dragged him to the door, and,
having alarmed her neighbours, handed over the
intruder to a constable, with a face whose comr
plexion resembled rather that of Othello than
Desdemona.

The culprit was taken before a magistrate in
the morning, but the fact of Mrs. Dip's door hav-
ing been left open, rendered the commission of a
burglary somewhat questionable, while she plead-
ed very strongly in the rogue's behalf, alleging,
that she had given him such a foretaste of stran-
gulation, as she hoped would deter him from
putting his neck in peril for the future. Under

40 BLCTE BESS*

these circnmsUmoeS) the fellow was condemned
to the three months' personal restraint, usually
though most injuriously imposed on individuals
convicted of no other offence than that of being
gentlemen living on their means.

Nor were Elizabeth's strength and intrepid^
less zealously applied on occasions not involving
her own interest or safety. It is well known
that, in defiance of certain preventive measmres,
the shores of Great Britain, like those of the
Styx, are haunted by spirits, who, of course, are
only visible at night, and, to vulgar eyes not
always then.

A party of tara, under the command -of a lieu-
tenant, in no degree appalled by the phenome-
non of the said spirhs making their way up the
country upon legs of flesh, attempted to intercept
their progress. A furious conflict ensued, during
which the officer was separated from his men,
and, having been disabled by a wound in the leg,
was left at the mercy of one of his opponents.
The smuggler, supporting a keg of liquor on his
shoulder with one hand, drew a pistol from his
belt with the other, and presented it at the lieu-
tenant; but, ere he could discharge it at his
intended victim, the iron grasp of Blue Bess was
upon his wrist, and exclaiming, " Hold! you
have load enough upon your shoulders, without

II

BLUE BESS.

43

adding a murder to it/' she fired the pistol in the
air. The smuggler gazed for a moment on the
interceptor of his vengeance, and saying, '' I
believe you are right, old girl ; " scampered after
his companions.

MOUNTAIN DEW.

Had the promulgation of the adventure rested
vith Elizabeth, it would not have been in my
X)wer thus to put it upon record, for she
lever made the remotest allusion to it. The

44 BLCJE B£S8.

lieutenant, howe?er, had the manliness^ as well
as the gratitude, publicly to acknowledge the ob*
ligatioui regardless of the raillery which the cir-
cumstance of his having been indebted to a
woman for his life elicited from his brother-
officers.

Elizabeth, for many years, had the bathing
business of the village to herself, until, at last,
some London capit^ists conceived the notable
idea of establishing ^ joint stock concern, under
the euphonous title of " The Royal Patent Safe
Steam Capstan Waterproof Bathing Company"
They commenced by starting two machines against
Mrs. Dip*s, and, as they were worked at twice the
expense of hers, while the prices to the bathees
were just half her charge, the new concern could
not but be prosperous — and it prospered accord-
ingly.

The company's plan, it must be acknowledged,
was a manifest improvement upon Bessy's, since,
as has been hinted, our modern Amphitrite's ma-
rine chariot was drawn by a sea-horse (for he was
as amphibious as herself), whereas the R. P. S.
C. W. B. Company's machine was let down into
the sea, and withdrawn by means of a capstan
fixed on shore and worked by steam, and was
attended, not by a horse, but by two asses, in oiled

BLUE fiESS. 45

^kin breeches, named conducteurs, Elizabeth,
again, was wont to souse her customers over head
and ears, without respect of persons, and to return
them, dripping and breathless, into the machine ;
whereas the bathees of the " new concern" were
all provided with patent water-proof India-rubber
dresses, protected by which, they came out of.
the water as dry as they went into it.

Elizabeth, albeit of a sex not celebrated for
the patience with which they endure opposition,
was neither sulky nor sorrowful on the occasion ;
but, although deprived of half her custom, main-
tained her temper, her prices, and her civility,
with the most exemplary philosophy.

It happened one morning, towards the end of
September, that a pretty stiff breeze was blowing
in shore, and the waves were lashing the shingle
as though Neptune had got into a foaming pas-
sion with Tellus, and was endeavouring to flog
her into good behaviour. A fleet of fishing-craft,
which had been out all night, was running for-
the harbour, while some of them were in a con-
dition which proved, that if they had not been
promptly baled by their navigators, they would
have been consigned, by a summary process,
to Mr. Jones's lock-up-house. A huge Irish
steamer, which, with one paddle-box out of the
water, had been vainly endeavouring to keep on

46 BLUE BESS.

her course^ was compelled to 'bout ship, and bear
up for the nearest harbour.

It was not surprising that persons should fear
to trust themselves amid such a strife of wind
and water, with no other guarantees for their lives
than Blue Bess and her pony; but such was the
jconfidence reposed in the security of the Royal
Patent Safe Steam Capstan Waterproof Bathing
Company *s machines, that one of them was very
soon engaged by three young ladies of quality
and their governess.

No sooner, however, had the vehicle been
lowered to the required depth, than the rope,
conceiving, probably, that it had done its duty,
snapped asunder, and away went the machine,
with the tide, bound apparently for Boulogne, and
proving that it is possible for a concern to go on
even too swimmingly. Now, it must be owned,
that a bathing-machine, however admirably con-
structed for its peculiar purpose, is, at best, but
an awkward sea-boat in a gale of wind; and,
indeed, the one in question, owing, possibly, to
unequal stowage, had not proceeded far before
the wheels began to exhibit a disposition to
abandon the vertical for a horizontal movement,
while the shrieks of the passengers proclaimed their
sense of the danger which encompassed them.

Our friend. Blue Bess, who, idly leaning on

BLCJE BESS. 47

the back of her pony, and reflecting that their
'' occupation was gone/' had witnessed the suc-
cess of her rivals, no sooner observed the acci-
dent, than, with the stride of a giantess and the
courage of an Amazon, she rushed through the
surf, and although once flung upon her back in
the attempt, caught hold of the fragment of the
rope which was attached to the machine, and, by
a desperate efibrt, favoured, doubtless, by the
strong breeze which was blowing in shore, suc-
ceeded in withdrawing it into shoal water, and
keeping it in that situation until others arrived to
her assistance, when the party were extricated
from their perilous situation.

The gratitude of the noble family exhibited
itself in the offer of a liberal pecuniary reward to
Elizabeth, who, however, firmly but respectfully
refused it, alleging that it would not add to her
happiness, since she could maintain herself by
her labour, and was not without a provision for
her old age. On being pressed to name some-
thing which it would be gratifying to her to
receive as an acknowledgment of the important
service she had so generously and courageously
rendered, she, at last, mentioned *^ a pound of
tea.'' A quarter chest of the finest was immedi-
ately sent, and the present has been annually
repeated.

The accident, however, waa fatal to tbe " Royal
Patent Safe Steam Capstan Waterproof Bathing
Company," doubtless on account of the very
strong prejudice which moat persons entertain
against coming to their end by means of a rope.
Blue Besa not only regained all her old custom,
but had such an accession of business, that she
purchased the machines of the " opposition" at
half their cost, and increased her eatablishraeot
by a brace of deputy dippers.

DICK DOWLAS.

Dick Dowlas was my hero's name,

A gallant youth and taper,
Who seven long years, apprenticed, served

A retail linen-draper.

But he'd a soul above his trade,
And thought his fate was hard ;

Condemned — a tar was better off —
For ever to the yard.

His bosom with romance was fired ;

He'd read each martial story.
From Thomas Thumb to Ivanhoe,

And envied each their glory.

And when his shop-companions all
Were snugly wrapp'd in sleep,

Perch 'd at his garret casement, oft
Would Dick late vigils keep;

While Fancy, as he gazed thereout.

Excursive wing'd her flight,^
And he in every chimney-pot

Beheld a helmed knight.

D

52 DICK DOWLAS.

He saw their gaily lacker*d crests
Bright in the moonbeams glance,

And deem*d, it was a vane conceit,
Each weather-cock a lance*

*' I've cut long cloth,*' said he, " too long ;

Tis time, I trow, to stop ;**
And so, to cut the matter short,

Our hero cut the shop.

He lit a half-expired cigar

With his expired indentures ;
And, like La Mancha's doughty knight,

Set out to seek adventures.

Yet had he, what the Don had not,

A dread of war's disasters ;
For laurels, though nice summer wear,

Dick knew made sorry plasters.

So, like a prudent lad, he took

The resolution sage,
While others travelFd post to fame,

To go upon the stage.

And straight he sought enrolment in

A locomotive corps;
For Dick, by stealth, had often trod

The Thespian boards before.

i

- DICK DOWLAS. ^5

He found old Strut, the manager,

Perch'd on a drum at luncheon ;
His wife, the while, was rolling paste

With Julius Ccesar's truncheon,

** What wouldst thou with our majesty ?"

He ask'd ; but Dick, deterr*d
By Strut's imposing manner, paused

Ere he his suit preferred.

" I have a suit," said Dick. ^* A suit?

You're just the man we want,"
Replied the hero of the sock,

Whose wardrobe was but scant.

Then, sotto voce^ he pursued,

" A coat as good as new, —
Waistcoat and trousers none the worse

For wear — my lad you'll do !"

Strut well might deem a suit of clothes

The best of fortune's boons,
Whose Hamlets play'd in Highland kilti,

For lack of pantaloons.

His troop their clothes in common held ;

And not a man, 'twas known,
In alt the company, presumed

To call his coat his own.

56 DICK DOWLAS.

Thus, while the lai^ men's jackets oft

Were made to fit the small,
The short and thick ones* trousers served

For breeches to the tall.

Glancing at Dick*s investiture,

Fair Belvidera rose,
(For she, with hair en papillotes,

Was darning Jaffier*s hose),

And vanish'd with the speed of light.

To bid the printer note.
In that night's novelties, that Pierre

Would play in a whole coat.

The bargain soon was made, and Strut
Engaged the stage-struck wight ;

Our Dick performing twice a- week, —
His wardrobe every night.

A suit of clothes, with one man's wear,

Won't look for ever new ;
And Richard's, worn by half-a-score.

Soon wondrous rusty grew.

His shirts went one by one, until

The last, with many a rub,
Wreck'd in a storm of soap-suds, went

To pieces {n the tub.

DICK DOWLAS. 57

On all our hero's hardships 'twould

Be painful to enlarge ;
But when his suit was quite worn out,

Strut gave him his discharge.

Cries Dick, " You've acted very ill."

Says Strut, *' That may be true,
And yet it were no easy thing

To act much worse than you.

** I only hired your suit ; I'm sure

You've no cause to repine ;
And if you would act heroes in't,

^Twas your affair, not mine."

'' ril not deny," says Dick, " that I

Consentedrto tHe wear;
But, Sir, you^ll recollect I made

No bargain for the tear»

" Look at my mutilated coat ; —

I think, Sir, you'll perceive
That if I felt inclined to laugh,

'Twould not be in my sleeve/*

But vainly, as a tar would say,

Did Richard '' spin his yam ;"
Strut told him very plainly 'twas

His '' last night" in the barn.

d2

58

DICK DOWLAS.

But Dick, indignant, went forthwith
And sought his former master's,

Who, though he blamed him, pitied much
Poor Dowlases disasters.

Once more the linen-draper's shop

Allow'd his bread to win in,
Dick could not hide his joy, he'd been

So long estranged from linen.

COMIC AND TRAGIC MUSEl

THE VETERANS.

When Sir Benjamin Boreas, the tauriphobic
admiral whom I had the pleasure to introduce
to the readers of our last year's volume, retired
from the glories and fatigues of war, he offered
free quarters, at his country mansion, to a brace
of Veterans, who, for many years, had followed
him from ship to ship, and, like him, had not
quite so much to shew for their pensions as
certain more fashionable stipendiaries, inasmuch
as the gallant tars had lost each an eye, and
one of them a limb, in the service of their country.
A proposal so liberal could not but prove ac-
ceptable to Ben Block the carpenter's mate, and
Tom Starboard the boatswain, who had, to use
their own expression, been " knocking about,'' in
all parts of the world, " man and boy," for five-
and-forty years.

In intimating that Block and Starboard were
unmarried, I will not adopt an ordinary phrase
and say they were without encumbrance, inas-
much as I happen to be within arm's-length of
one who might suggest the possibility of my

62 THE VETERANS.

6nding in our copious yocabulary a more gallant
synonyme for wife. It is reported that they
were deterred from matrimony by their having
remarked that, whenever the Admiral's lady came
on board, he was superseded in his command.

At first the Veterans were quartered among
the domestics, — an arrangement which, while its
novelty lasted, appeared agreeable enough to all
parties. They were both of them useful fellows
about a house ; Block, in his vocation, as mender-
general of chairs and tables, was seldom unem-
ployed — for, when he could not find a job to his
hand, he usually contrived to make one. Nor
did Tom eat the bread of idleness ; his whistle
did the duty of the great bell used in most large
houses for summoning the family together ; and
he was, moreover, maugre his wooden leg, an
expeditious and confidential messenger to the
neighbouring market-town, an office for which,
he was wont to say, he was peculiarly qualified,
inasmuch as he could never tire but on one
foot.

On an occasion, requiring extraordinary de«
spatch, Tom was induced to attempt a journey on
horseback ; an experiment, howeyer, which, it is
asserted, he never repeated. A man who could
keep his footing upon the yard-arm in the Bay

THE VETERANS'. t3

of Biscay, would have been irretrierably dis-
graced by a fall from a horse ; and, accoidingly,
our tar, by dint of firmly grasping the hinder
p&rt of the saddle with one hand, and the mane
with the other, kept bb seat moat manfully.

Unfortunately, however, as he had always been
accustomed to steer a vessel at the stern, he
never dreamed of gliding his steed by the head ;
the consequence of vrhich was, that the animal
ran with him fifteen miles without stopping ; and
Tom was never seen or heard of for three days
afterwards, when he returned and accounted for
his absence by saying he had been wind-bound
at the Black Lion.

64 THE VETERANS.

They also assisted in navigating a barge (a
somewhat ancient affair), which the Admiral kept
on a lake, until, unluckily, one day, when Sir
Benjamin, Lady Boreas, and Miss Europa had
embarked on a fishing excursion, Tom Starboard
thrust his wooden leg through the bottom of the
craft; and had not his messmate Ben, with admi-
rable presence of mind, seized him by the collar,
and prevented him from withdrawing it, the
three Veterans, afler having so long braved *' the
battle and the breeze," would have met an inglo-
rious grave, by foundering in fresh water.

The honest seamen, however, began soon to
grow weary of a mode of life so uncongenial with
their former habits. Having been accustomed
to swing in hammocks, they complained that
they could not get more than half " the ship's
allowance '* of rest, in a feather-bed : on which
occasion, one of the footmen, who set up for a
wag, remarked that half a night's sleep was
enough for a man with one eye. Block, who
had a mortal antipathy to the knights of the
tag and cane, would, in " the twinkling of a
handspike," have qualified the wit for making
the experiment, had not Starboard interposjBd,
by observing, that it was beneath a gentleman
to strike a lady or a lackey. The tars, more-

THE VETEEANS. 67

ever, alleged that the beef was not half corned ;
and that the purser's steward, meaning the under-
hutler, watered the rum.

Hie servants, on the other hand, had their
sources of dissatisfaction, which was chiefly ex-
cited by the pertinacious punctuality with which
the boatswain piped all hands at six o'clock,
winter and summer. The delicacy of the lady's-
maid was shoclced by their " odious" habit of
chewing tobacco; the housekeeper could not
*,* abide" the smell of tar; and the cook had
the impertinence to tell Starboard, on his threat-
ening to have her keel-hauled for spoiling, as he
alleged, a sea-pie, that he was no gentleman.

The eSect of these disagreements was, that
the tars were wont to quit the chimney-corner
for the open airj where, astride of a sea-chest,
they might frequently be observed smoking
their pipes in huge dudgeon and high contempt
of all land -lubbers and ladies'-maids. They
had, however, friends at court: the Admiral
would not hear a word to their disparagement ;
Block had ingratiated himself with Miss Europa,
by furnishing her boudoir with some specimens of
his skill in cabinet-work; while the boatswain
had become a special favourite with Lady Boreas,
in consequence of a habit he had contracted of

68 THE VETERANS.

interlarding his speeches to her with ^* Bless
your handsome face !" an epithet, by the way,
which he was believed to have applied to her
ladyship's countenance from its remarkable re-
semblance to the figure-head of his ** crack**
frigate, the Medusa.

As a method of delivering his old followers
from the annoyances to which he saw they were
exposed in his family, the Admiral made them an
offer of a piece of ground on his estate, on which
they might build a house according to their own
fancy, and promised them timber for the purpose.
Accepting the proposal with much gratitude,
Block and his messmate set to work, and in a
few weeks produced an edifice which, in the eyes
of the country-people, had marvellously the ap-
pearance of a house built roof downwards, but
which, in reality, was as close a resemblance to
the midships of a man-of-war as their materials
enabled them to construct.

From their new residence, the lubberly con-
veniences of an ordinary dwelling-house were, of
course, carefully excluded. The necessity of a
door was superseded by the superior contrivance
of a side ladder from the ground to the roof,
or deck, if the reader will have it so, whence
another flight of stairs conducted to the interior.

THE VETERANS. 69

Port-boles were adopted in preference to glazed
sadies or casements, as being more ** ship-
shape," and an effectual security against broken
windows.

For many years did these eccentric but ho-
nest seamen occupy their amphibious abode, in
perfect content and harmony with each other.
Block paid some deference to Starboard, as his
superior officer, usually addressing him <^ Sir,*' and
yielding him the windward side when walking
the deck together. For the rest, they " did the
duty of the ship," as they termed it, between
them, taking the watch '* spell and spell about ;"
and thus, to use their own facetious expression,
they always slept with one eye open.

They were liberally " victualled" and " found
in stores" by the Admiral, by whom and his
family they were frequently visited. One morn-
ing, while Sir Benjamin was dressing, he ob-
served that the flag, which his veteran friends
were in the habit of hoisting on special oc-
casions, was flying half-mast high. Having
finished his toilette in haste, he rushed out of
the house, exclaiming, '' Starboard has slipped
his cable !" and made the best of his way to
their dwellings

70 THE VETEEAXS.

Omitting the usual ceremony of hailing the
ship, the Admiral mounted the ladder, and dis-
covered Block busily engaged in constructing a
coffin. " What cheer, brother?" exclaimed Sir
Benjamin, " and where's your consort?"

" Parted company, your honour," was Ben's
reply,, in a voice as firm as he could assume, '' at
six A.M. with a fair wind and a flowing sheet;
and as, for some years past, he has been steering
his ship by what pur chaplain used to call the
only true chart, I hope he'§ safe moored by
this time."

Block would not allow of the interference of
an undertaker in the arrangements for the fu-
neral of his deceased friend ; but engaged six of
his old messmates, who happened to be at a
neighbouring port, to carry the remains to their
last horae^ .

When the service wis finished, Ben gazed
upon the coffin for a few seconds, and then,
dashing away the tears which had gathered upon
his cheek, he turned to his old companions, and,
pointing to the j^ave, said — " There lies the
hull of as true a sailor as ever broke the king's
biscuit ; he has shaped his course to' that haven
where there is neither shoal, nor quicksand,, nor

THE VETERANS^

croH cuirent, nor foul weather. Mesamates, if
there be any among you who are sailing upon a
niong course, take a seaman'a' adTice, put the
sbip about, and bear up for the same port."

HEART FOR HEART;

OR, o'slaughter's courtship.

Young Phelim 0*Slaugbter was bom in Kildare—
I can't tell, lor the life of me, what he did there;
But somehow for the isle he conceived a dislike
Where they hang'd for the trifle of trailing a pike;
And, without giving landlord or tithe -proctor

warning,
Bade adieu to green Erin one sunshiny morning.

He reach'd London, that city of darkness and dirt,
With ten pounds snugly tied in the sleeve of his

shirt;
With which round sum in cash, and, moreover, a

tongue
Rich in Flattery's smaU-change for wrinkled and

• young,
(For what would an Irishman, sir, without blarney

be?)
He set up a stall in the market of Carnaby.

As to person, he'd shoulders which measured, 1

ween,
The Milesian width, just a cloth-yard between :

HEABT FOB HEART. 75

He'd a mouth full of teeth, and a nose (if you ask us)
Much resembling in colour a rose of Damascus,
Only double the size, — ^while it shed, by reflection,
A delicate tint on our hero's complexion.

Phelim's shop with the fair sex soon got into vogue.
They were all so bewitch'd with his blarney and

brogue ;
They ne'er gave him a call, but an hour they

would stay with him :
** Dear Mr. O'Slaughter ! he has such a way with

him,
There is something so sweet in his voice and his

looks^
That would coax you to buy all the joints on his

hooks*"

Should a dame come to cheapen some veal, and
complain

Of its colour; says he, " Is it colour you mane ?

It's your delicate arm, — that's a darling, now
hide it, —

For the whitest of vale would look bull-beef be-
side it."

When, to pay for her purchase, she pulls out the
money, [honey."

Says he, ** Sweet is your hand in a pitcher of

E

76 HEART FOR HEART.

One day, from O'Slaugbter's, a robber and ghttOD
Made off with a leg of fine Devonshire mutton;
When the neighbours, who saw the meat taken,

came to him,
And^ denouncing the thief, would have Phelim

pursue him :
** Bother ! how will I run," says he, " tell me, I beg,
When the thief of the world has gone off with my

leg?"

One morning to Phelim*s a damosel stray'd,
A spinster by choice and a dyer by trade,
Only just tum'd of fifty, with cheeks, like his nose,
Which had been double dipp'd in the dye of the
rose ; [sallow,

Her face look'd, on shoulders so broad and so
Like a peony stuck in a hogshead of tallow.

As she entered, he said to his journeyman Thady,
" Don't be scratching your wig just before the

. young lady,"
** A heart, sir," says she ; ** but your prices will

starve us.'*
Replied Phelim, " My darling, Tve one at your

sarvice,**
While his hand press'd his bosom. Says she, and

she laughs,
** I was wanting a heart, but it was not a calf's."

r
f

^EART FOR HEART. 77

'hat's lucky/* cries he, whom no damper could

stop,
ls it happens, there's not a calf's heart in my

shop ;
e's the thing that mWplase you — come bear

a hand, Thady,
this heart in your tray, and trot after the lady."
ut the price, sir ?" cries she. Says he, " Is it

the price ?
I're as welcome aslife, never say theword twice."

damsel was rich, Phelim knew all the while —
e Mahoney hight, from his own verdant isle ;
a sounding broad in the ears of the town,
to Katy May 'honey had soften'd it down,
nd why not?" said Pat, who his love could not

smother ;
he's as fair as the one, and as sweet as the
other."

laughter, his love growing stronger and stronger,
ilaim'd, " By St. Pat, I can bear it no longer!"
le said to the dame," Of trades I've now two —
11 sheep for myself, and I'm dyeing for you :
n, sweet Kitty, have pity — you'll kill me with

scorn,
I make this house a <ite-house, as sure as you're

bom."

7B HEART FOR HEART.

She replied, with a siniper regarding the youtl
" Dear Mr. O'Slau^ter, to tell you the truth;
The heart which you were so eiceediagly kiiK
Ab to lend me, turn'd out, sb, so much to

miud,
That ni freely confess, without blarney or pott
I don't care if I come to your shop for anothei

THE BULL AND THE BARBER.

Lancelot Lather well was the only barber in
his village; — a man of no small importance in
his own opinion, as well as ui fact, seeing that he
was familiar with all the heads of the place. The
chief instrument of his power, however, was his
razor, — a sceptre which he wielded somewhat
absolutely perhaps, but uniformly with a regard
to the welfare of his subjects, who were rather
numerous, and consisted of such as were unable
to shave themselves.

In their labours for the moral amelioration of
mankind, philosophers have aimed to convince
the understanding, and divines to touch the heart;
but Lant addressed himself to the chin. Was it
proved to the satisfaction, or rather dissatisfac-
tion, of Latherwell, that a neighbour had beaten
his wife, or spent his week's wages at a public
house, instead of taking them home to his family —
the culprit became a marked man, — ^he was known
by his beard, — ^which the shaver pertinaciously
refused to touch until the wearer had exhibited

E 2

82 THE BULL AND THB BARBER.

symptoms of repentance and amended manners.
The delinquent, becoming an object for the finger
of scorn to point at, was usually followed and
hooted at by all the boys in the district ; and it
rarely happened that a villager had the courage
to subject himself a second time to the disgrace
and inconvenience consequent upon the ** bar-
ber's ban.**

Latherwell, like a humane general, pursued
his vocation with as little bloodshed as possible ;
indeed, he was wont to boast, that, since the
days of his apprenticeship, he had drawn the
purple stream but once, and that on the follow-
ing occasion. One hot morning, while Lant was
exercising his tonsorial functions upon a wealthy
farmer, a short-homed bull, doubtless with a view
of exciting the hair-dresser's emulation, thrust
through the open window a head as nicely
curled, and, perhaps, as sensible, as the most
fashionable of our hero's patrons. Not suc-
ceeding in immediately attracting attention, the
animal addressed itself to Lant's ear, with an
effect which had nearly proved fatal to that of
his customer; for the operator, who had a mortal
dread of horned cattle, and of the squire's
bull in particular, was so startled at the roar and
the apparition, that, with an involuntary flourish

THB BULL AND THE BARBER. 83

of his razoTy he had well nigh cropped the farmer
as close as any terrier in the village. Fear is
doubtless an exaggerator, but Latherwell main-
tains that the bull not only emitted fire from its
nostrils, but that it scorched his right whisker,
which, maugre the application of three bottles of
Macassar, has never thriven properly since.

The farmer, who had, in truth, sustained but
little injury, started up in Lant's table-cloth, in
which, preparatory to the operation, he had been
enveloped, and rushed into the street, like the
ghost of Banquo, bleeding, and breathing ven-
geance, and spreading consternation, as he went.
The whole village was in an uproar, and a variety
of contradictory reports as to the cause of the
catastrophe were current. The most generally
received account, however, not only stated that
the barber had attacked the agriculturist, '' with
intent to do him some grievous bodily harm," but
was exceedingly circumstantial as to the origin
of their quarrel. " The farmer,*' said rumour,
'' having a great dread of baldness, as indicative
of age, had inquired of Lant, if he did not think
his hair was grown thicker? To which the other
replied. No, but that he thought his head was ;
and, by way of a crowning climax, recommended
him to select some public charity to which to

84 THB BULL AND THE BARBE&.

leave his wealth, for that he certainly would die
without a hair. Thereupon, the farmer, taking
advantage of Lant*s convenient position, had
kicked his shins with his iron-tipped half-boots;
and that the barber had retaliated by shaving off
his customer's ear at a stroke."

Meanwhile the farmer, not satisfied with having
the injury dressed by a surgeon, repaired to his
attorney to get it redressed. Lawyers and prize-
fighters are the only persons on earth who profit
by black eyes and bloody noses. The pettifogger
in question owed the distinction of being the
most respectable solicitor in the village, to the
circumstance of his being the only one in it. He
told the farmer that he had been shamefully,
scandalously, 6ar6erously used. The lawyer lied
of course, and said an action would lie also, and
therein he lied again.

An action, however, was brought at the next
assizes, which arrived almost before Lant had re-
covered from the consternation into which the
notice of the proceedings had thrown him. On
the morning previous to the day on which the
cause was expected to come on, the shaver was
called upon for a cast of his office by a gentle-
man of some consequence in the neighbourhood,
who, observing our hero to be unusually depressed

THE BULL AND TH£ BAUBER* 85

and eliciting the source of his uneasiness, des-
patched him, instanter, to the assize town with a
letter to a barrister, explaining the case, and
soliciting his good offices on the occasion.

The barrister, struck by the whimsicality of
the circumstances, returned Latherwell his fee,
and told him he would plead his cause for ** the
love of the thing."

The trial came on before a jury, whose coun-
tenances alone would have qualified them as
members of a club of " Odd Fellows." The
plaintiff's counsel commenced with a disquisition
on ears ; touched upon the sensitiveness of Pris-
cian's, and alluded to those of Dionysius, who,
as would doubtless, he said, be in the classical
recollections of the jury, had three ears, though
two only of them, he Hibernically added, were
pairs. Having considered the subject morally,
physically, and anatomically, he took another
Jieldf and dwelt upon the value of ears to far-
mers in particular, maintaining that they could
not get their bread without them. He next re-
ferred to asses* ears ; and concluded by such a
stentorian appeal to those of the jury, that every
man of them had as just ground of action against
the counsel, as the farmer had against the barber.
The witnesses for the plaintiff having been
examined g^nd cross-examined, the defendant's

86 TH£ BULL AND THE BARBER. '

counsel rose, and expressed bis concern that it
was not in his power to produce the only witness
of the affray in which the action had originated,
namely, the bull ; but that the truth was, he
could find none who would undertake to serve
the subpoena personally, and that, pending the
consultation of authorities as to whether flinging
it over the hedge of his pasture would be a legal
service, the bull had unfortunately changed his
name, and become beef. '' But this, gentlemen
of the jury," he continued, " is a circumstance
which I am led to regret less on my client's
account, than on my learned brother's on the
opposite side, whom, as he has indulged us with
an Irish bull, I should have been gratified in
introducing to an English one. Gentlemen of
the jury, my case lies in a nutshell, and I want
no other evidence than that with which the plain-
tiff has kindly furnished me, to prove it. Two of
his witnesses have sworn that he is quite deaf of
the ear of which, he alleges, the defendant had
nearly deprived him. Now, gentlemen of the jury ,
I contend that had my client actually sliced off
the plaintiff's ear, and put it in his breeches'
pocket, I should be entitled to a verdict ; for what
amount of damages would you award to a man for
the loss of that which he himself has proved to
have been utterly useless to him ?"

f THE BULL AtlD THE BABBEU. 87

The counsel paused for & moment to observe
ihe effect of his appeal upon the jury ; the fore-
man of vhich, afler kicking three or four of his
neighbours out of the laad of dreams, stated that
he had taken the sense of his colleag^ues, (which
was very probable, since they appeared to have
none left,) and would not trouble the learned
^ntleman to proceed, his last ai^ument being
conclusive. A verdict for the defendant was ac-
cordingly delivered, and the barber returned tri-
umphant to his village.

TAMING A TARTAR.

Let other bards extol the dames

Who shine at ball or rout,
Be mine the task to sing the charms

Of Miss Susannah Stout ;

Who, though a country damsel, might

A classic namesake claim,
For Sukey, as pronounced in Greek,

Was Cupid's sweetheart's name.

And many were the swains who sought

To win her bosom's jewel ;
But Susan, though as Dian fair,

Was twenty times as cruel.

When Simon Slim implored the dame,

With sighs and bitter tears,
To yield her hand ; " Pray take it, sir,"

Said she, " upon your ears."

While Peter Prim, who rashly dared
The same rich boon to seek,

Received, from fair Susannah's hand,
The palm — upon his cheek.

,i

TAMING A TAATAB. 91

Yet nothing did her cnielty

Her lovers' zeal abate,
Who sought her hand as though they judged

Its value by its weight.

Did I essay that hand to paint,

1 should be sorely troubled ;
Because I never chanced to see

The damsel's fist undoubled.

And Susan had a tongue — as who

Of the sweet sex has not ?
Though, bless the pretty prattlers, few

Have such a one, I wot.

For those who mark'd the crimson dyes

Her cheeks and lips that grace,
Compared it to a razor in

A red morocco case.

She long kept Hymen at arm's-length ;

Her prejudice seem'd rooted ;
And while a few might slight her charms,

Her power was ne'er disputed.

At last Sam Hobbs, the miller, sought

Her love, and, undismay'd, he
Determin'd, like an errant knight.

To die or win the lady.

92 TAMIX6 A TAUTAB.

I should have told thee, reader mine,

That to the damsers hand
Were tack'd ten acres, " more or less,"
' Of very fertile land.

When Hobbs declared his love — I would,
Good sir, you had but seen them —

He took especial care to keep
A quickset hedge between them.

She fain would with a slighter man
Have put on wedlock's bands,

Which was,^ she thought, the way to keep
The power in her own hands.

The miller was a portly man,

And tall as well as stout ;
But was, or else he feign'd to be,

Quite crippled by the gout.

So sweet Susannah smiled consent
On Hobbs : " Because," says she,

" rU warrant he'll prove tame enough
Between the gout and me."

But Hymen's talismanic chain
Cured, strange to tell, the gout ;

And thus, 'twould seem the greater ill
Did cast the minor out*

TAMING A TARTAR. 93

^Ire half the honeymoon had pass'd,

Susannah's choler rose,
iVho, not content with words, prepared
To second them with blows.

Though Hobbs was a most loving spouse,

It does not seem he cared
To have such very striking proofs

Of his dear wife's regard.

Says he, " That rosy blush, my dear,
Doth much improve your charms ;**

Thus speaking, with a loving hug
He pinion'd both her arms.

But nothing, save a gag, could stop

Her tongue's stentorian clang,
Which soon on all the parts of speech

Mellifluous changes rang.

Said Hobbs, '' To that melodious voice

rd listen all the day ;
But yon confounded mill, my love,

Drowns every word you say."

Sue found at last it would not do ;

Her railing, it was rumour*d.
On Hobbs was wasted — he was so

Provokingly good-humour'd.

i

TAHIDC A TABTAB.

So, wisely, she resolved to make
The best of her election,

Nor wish'd to put to further proof
The sfretijrM of his affection.

BLACK AND WHITE.

Fortune is a fickle goddess, and he who, having
gained a capital prize in the lottery, lays out his
money in the purchase of another ticket, is a
l^ander. Matrimony is among the games of
chance ; and if a man has had the good fortune
:o possess one excellent wife, let him not tempt
lis fate by another cast, lest, like the father of
ny hero, Reuben Ramble, his rashness be pu-
lished by a deuce.

The elder Ramble's second spouse, it is true,
(¥as an exemplary housewife : if they had a
joint on Sunday, she contrived to keep the
family the remainder of the week upon the
bones ; she never allowed a loaf to be cut until
it had acquired one of the properties of a bis-
cuit ; while, as to cleanliness, the drawing-room
was never profaned by the foot of any human
being but the housemaid, who was sent in, with-
out her shoes, every other day, to rub the fur-
niture. But, alas ! the whirlwind, which swept
the dust from every chair and table, shelf and

F

98 BLACK AND WHITE.

chiffonQrCy did not exhaust its fury upon inani-
mate objects. She had (as Mr. Ramble dis-
covered, when it was too late to profit by the
warning) broken the heart of her first husband;
but, probably from finding that process a tedious
one, she resolved to try conclusions on the
head of her second, upon which she had,
therefore, at divers times, in the course of the
first twelve months, broken a blue and white
dinner service, three mop -handles, and the
kitchen poker.

Luckily, however, a man in trade can always
find excuses for being abroad ; and, accordingly,
Mr. Ramble was wont to fly from the fury of
one club to the solace of another ; that is to say,
he escaped from the Fiery Dragon to take refuge
at the Red Lion. On the other hand, Mrs.
Ramble was remarkable for the promptness with
which she discharged all her obligations; and
thus it happened that, in dispensing even-handed
justice, she invariably bestowed upon his heir
and representative, Reuben, all the kicks and
cuffs which her husband was not on the spot to
take in his proper person. Such favours, added
to those, neither few nor light, which Reuben
received on his individual account, must neces-
sarily have cloyed by repetition ; so that, in the

BLACK AND WHITE- 99

course of time, both father and son would gladly
hare exchanged this species of absolute monarchy
in their household for a mixed government.

One day, while Ramble was picking up the
fragments of a coffee-cup, which, having missed
the substance, had demolished his shadow in a
pier-glass, he turned to his son, and said, " Reu-
ben, my good fellow, your mother-in-law has
often told me that her late husband, of happy
memory, never contradicted her in his life; which
I can readily believe, inasmuch as he must have
been a rasher man than I am, if he had ventured
upon any such experiment. It seems, however,
that the ostensible source of her displeasure, for
some time past, has been, that there are too
many men in the house, and that they are
always in the way. Now, as there are only you
and I, the hin^ is neither to be misunderstood
nor disregarded. One of us must decamp : I
honestly confess to you I care not which, and
am, therefore, ready to decide the point by the
toss of a halfpenny."

Reuben, however, who was at that period
about eighteen, would not allow chance to usurp
the place of duty in the decision, and declared
that he was willing to depart on the instant.
His father said he was a good boy, and, bidding

100 BLACK AND WHITE.

him afTectionately farewell, slipped into his hand
his only guinea, which his wife, according to her
usual method of disbursement, had flung at his
head that morning.

A man must be more fortunate than the gene-
rality of knights-errant, if he meet with many
adventures during the short period which it will
take him to spend a guinea. The first account
I heard of him, after his quitting his paternal
roof, was, that he had joined a company of
strolling players, with whom, as the alternative
of starvation, he engaged, and became a shining
ornament of the community. His debut was
made in Falstaff, which he played without stuff-
ing, for he had not had a full meal for a week :
he enacted Bottom to the life, and was allowed
to be the most effective Harlequin that had ap-
peared in that part of the country. Our hero
was overwhelmed with compliments, which he
soon found were his share of the profits of the
speculation, the manager contenting himself with
the pecuniary part of the harvest.

It happened that, one morning, he was taking a
melancholy stroll in the neighbourhood of a town
in which the company had been performing for a
week to almost empty benches, when, coming to
a field of turnips, he began to pare one, and was

fiLACK AND WHITE. 101

in the act of putting it to his niouth, when
he heard a voice calling upon him to desist.
Turning round, Reuben perceived a little man
with a large Leghorn hat and a complexion of
the same colour, advancing towards him.

*' Young man," said he, " do you know what
you are doing ?"

Reuben replied, that he was very hungry,
and thought there was no harm in taking a
turnip.

** But there is great harm in eating it," said
the other, " and upon an empty stomach too ;
why it would give you the cholic for a week.
Here, Thomas," he continued, addressing a ser-
vant in attendance, '* take this young man up to
the house ; and when he has had his fill of cold
beef and strong beer, let me see him again."

The result pf the interview, which elicited the
particulars of Reuben's history, was an offer from
his entertainer, a West Indian proprietor, of an
appointment as book-keeper on one of his estates
in Jamaica. Our hero, who would thankfully
have accepted a much humbler office, was over-
joyed at the proposal, and, after despatching a
farewell letter to his father, and another to the
daughter of a retired cheesemonger, for whom he
cherished a secret attachment, he embarked in

102 BLACK AND WHITE.

the good ship Britannia for the land of rum and
molasses.

The voyage was marked by no occurrence
worthy of record, except an accident which had
well nigh terminated the labours of our adven-
turer's historian. It seemed that he had been
coaxed aloft by some of the wags of the ship,
who contrived to slip a noose round his body,
and tilt him into the sea. Unluckily, however,
they had not sufficiently secured the other end
of the rope, so that Reuben, after a glimpse of
the maker's name in his hat, which reached the
water before him, was in a fair way of becoming
food for sharks.

The cry of " man overboard !" brought the
captain upon deck, who, having instantly de-
manded of the person at the wheel why he did
not heave the vessel to, was ansy^ered, that the
man was " only a passenger." Tlie captain had
not time to argue the matter, so he knocked
down the steersman, and taking his place, put
the ship about, and lowered a boat just in time
to save our sinking friend. On his arrival in
Jamaica, he discovered, to his astonishment, that
hook-keeper f in the language of the island, meant
slave-driver y and that he was required to handle
the whip instead of the pen; promotion there, as

tZXCX AND WHITE. 105

In the army, being only to be obtained, in those
days, by hard fighting.

Reuben, after a week's experiment in his new
avocation, found that the whip was ail awkward
weapon, and accordingly provided himself with
one, with the use of which he was more familiar,
namely, a ferule, made after the fashion of a
harlequin's sword. His brother driver was loud
in his protest against the innovation, maintaining
that it would not kill a musquito. Reuben,
however, made so powerful an application of the
argument to the shoulders of the objector, as to
elicit an immediate and satisfactory testimonial
of the efficacy of the invention as a method of
punishment.

Armed with this fearful implement, Reuben
took the field, and made the plantation resound
with his thwacks on the persons of the unlucky
negroes, over whom he soon acquired an ascend-
ency which proved the excellence of his plan.
Indeed, such was the terror with which he had
inspired them, that, although he never turned a
key on any thing in his apartments, not an article
was ever touched, which was the more extraor-
dinary, as his colleague had represented the whole
gang of blacks to be thieves by nature.

It chanced that the attorney of the estate (not

f2

106 BLACK AND WHITE.

a lawyer, the reader will understand, but a sort of
plenipotentiary of the proprietor), in one of his
periodical visits, honoured the overseers with his
company to dinner; in the course of which, in-
telligence was brought, that a large black snake
had found its way into Reuben's sleeping cham-
ber in pursuit of a tame rabbit, and was begin-
ning to make wild work among the furniture,
when the reptile was perceived by a negro, who
put a stop to its devastations by destroying the
intruder.

Reuben summoned the negro, of whom, in-
stead of thanking him for the service, he de-
manded what business he had in the apartment ;
and, taking him by the throat, thrust him out of
the room, and, in the heat of his indignation,
forgetting that he had a couple of dollars in his
hand at the time, actually dropped them into
the negro's shirt.

The attorney was so delighted with the proofs
which Reuben had given of his fitness for his
office, that he immediately promoted him to the
situation of driver-in-chief; in which our hero
was no sooner installed, than he took it into his
head that his subordinates did not strike hard
enough, and consequently deprived them of their
whips, intimating that henceforward he should

BLACK A&D WHITE. 107

take the flogging department into his own hands.

THE NEGRO-PONT.

The thwacking system was followed by such
success, that there was not a more obedient and
orderly set of negroes in the island than those
under his superintendence.

Not long after his promotion, he was favoured
with overtures of marriage from a free negress,
who kept a store in Spanish Town, conveyed
in that naive manner for which ladies of colour
are distinguished. Reuben received the lady
with great courtesy, but alleging that the con-
trast of a black face and a white night-cap
was, as the milliners say, rather too " violent"
for his taste, he declined the honour, expressing,
however, his best acknowledgments for the pre-
ference.

i

108 BLACK AKD WHITE.

** No offence, massa I" said the damseh

** None in life/* replied, the overseer ; and they
parted the best friends imaginable.

But poor Reuben, like many other innovators,
was discovered, after all^ to be an impostor ; that
his ferula had two sides, a soft one and a hard
one, — or rather, that he had a sleight-of-hand
method of applying it (in which, by the way, he
did not indulge the objector to its introduction),
so as to produce a loud report without inflicting
pain. He had also been detected in applying
the port wine shipped for the estate as for
<< sick negroes," to that eispecial purpose, and to
the consequent detriment of his colleagues : all
which offences being duly represented and proved
to the attorney, our hero was cashiered in dis-
grace.

While Reuben was turning over the last half-
joe in his pocket, and pondering on the manner
in which he should find his way to England, — for
from the bad character he had acquired, he was
certain no one would employ him in the island,—
news was brought to him, that the negress whose
offers of marriage he had rejected, was dead,
and had left him all her property, alleging, as
a reason for so doing, his secret acts of kind-
ness to her countrymen. The testatrix had nei-

BtACK AND WUITB* 109

ther ** kith nor kin/' so that her legatee was not
prevented by any scruples of conscience from
appropriating the bequest, all of which, with the
exception of a female slave, whom he manu-
mised, and established in her late mistress's store,
he converted into hogsheads of sugar and pun-
cheons of rum.

Thus it happened that Reuben, who had
embarked for Jamaica a '' steerage passenger,"
returned to his native country the proprietor of
the ship's cargo ; and, finding his Clarinda not
only single but constant, he nlade his proposals
in form to her father, who demurred, having
already promised his " vote and interest " with
his daughter to a fellow- citizen, who was to the
full as wealthy, and twice as old as our hero.
An aptly timed present, however, of a green
parrot and ajar of tamarinds turned the scale
in Reuben's favour. The worthy cheesemonger,
whose mites had taken the form of guineas, did
what he called the ** handsome thing" on the
occasion ; and the young lovers were as happy
as wealth and wedlock could make them.

Among the changes which had occurred in
this mutable world during Reuben's absence from
England, his father became a second time a

i

110 BLACK AMD WHITE.

widower, and conKquently regflined the exercise
of his free will and the ute of his drawing-room,
privileges which he has expreaaed the UudaUe
resolution of never again putting in peril.

THE TWO ADJUTANTS.

Ther£ is a region, by the fiercer ray

Of Phoebus lighted, where full many a Briton,
Self-exiled, shapes his course, and, though the
way
Be somewhat lengthy, 'tis as straight a road as
You '11 find to wealth ; for there adventurers hit
on
Lacks of nipees, and no lack of pagodas.
Some hew their way to opulence as fighters,

While others (1 impugn not their sagacity)
Are known to fill their money-bags as writers^
Who would have starved at home in that ca-
pacity.

There was a certain Colonel, most punctilious
In paying both his visits and his bills ;

And, being likewise very brave and bilious.
Had ta*en a load of prize-money and pills ;

At length, knock'd up by Mercury and Mars,
He to a friend in England wrote to say

1 14 THE TWO ADJUTANTS.

He purposed, shortly, to get under weigh
For Europe, with his baggage and his scars,

Proposing there to lead a quiet life ;
And put a postscript to his note to pray him,
(The friend) by his arrival, to purvey him

A ready-furnish'd mansion and a wife.

The person thus address'd, his name was Johnson,

Had a fair daughter on his hands himself ;
And being rich, and having only one son,

Intended to bequeath her half his pelf;
But having a carte blanche , and thus the power
To double, by the Colonel's wealth, her dower,

Resolved the opportunity to snatch ;
And, though his friend was not quite made to
please a

Fair damsel of eighteen, he named the match.
One morning, when at breakfast, to Louisa,

Concluding his oration with, ^' I trust.
My dearest Lou, you '11 please me in this matter,
For you 're a girl of sense (I do not flatter), —

You will be sure to like him, and you must.**

Now Johnson was, of all the race of men,
The most headstrong and obstinate, and when
On any point he had made up his mind.
You might as well attempt to change the wind.

THE TWO ADJUTANTS. 115

<<

What, Sir, your old friend Clove?" she said

and smiled.
Instead of idly bursting into tears.
* * Old !" echoed he, *< what call you old ? why,
child,
He is my junior by at least three years.
'Tis true that he has pass'd by folly's hey-day,
When youth their time and health and money
squander,
And is more fit for a discreet young lady ; —

Then he's a colonel and a knight-commander,
(She liked not the last word) ; and think, my love.
That when you 're married you *11 be Lady Clove."

O for an artist's pencil such as Etty's,

The canvass with Louisa's form to grace !
Which, though but once it bless'd my vision,
yet is
In my mind's eye most vivid. O that face !
How mild its beauty, yet how bright its smile !
Those siren lips, without a siren's guile !
How gracefully her dark and glossy hair
Fell on a neck so polish'd, round, and fair,
As o'er a shaft of Parian marble twine
The rich luxuriant clusters of the vine I
But hold ! I grow grandiloquent and prosy,
While, doubtless^ the bored reader's getting dosy ;

B TWO ADJUTANTS.

And 10 I'd better touch a string more humble,
And cease to stilt it, lest I get a tumble.

Then Lou had such an eye ! 'twas not, 'tis tiue,
or all-subduing black or melting bine —

The colours poets celebrate ; and yet it
Was just that sort of one, that if, by chance.
The reader should encounter such a glance,

He would not very speedily forget it.
Her cheek's warm tint was like the orient dawn ;

Her air was frank aud sprightly, but not bold ;

THE TWO ADJUTANTS. 117

Her form was cast in Nature's finest mould —
Light as a sylph, and graceful as a fawn.

Her education, too, was aught but scanty ; —
She sang, drew, play'd, and read Racine and
Dante ;

Yet wore she not blue stockings, which look
worse on
A damsel who is haply young and fair; —
I should as well have liked to see a pair

Of castanets upon Professor Porson.
Some modern belles' accomplishments are ampler,

And more abstruse and classical ; they speak

Scandal in Hebrew, and make love in Greek,
And work a problem, 'stead of rug and sampler :
To wed" a Hebraist I should not choose,
Lest all my little children be born Jews.

Poor Johnson ! he imagined he'd projected
A scheme no human prudence could surpass,
To make his daughter happy ; but, alas !

He lived not to behold his plan perfected.

His will contain'd, though, an express provision
That she should wed the Colonel ; or if he
Didn't ratify the bargain, then that she

Should wed no other without his permission.

The will went on, that, should she, in defiance
Of this most sapient injunction, choose

118 THE TWO ADJUTANTS.

Another for her husband, she should lose
Her dow'r in toto for her non-compliance.

The Colonel, from some unknown cause, delay*

For full two years his purposed embarkation :
Twas not considerate to keep the maid

So long expectant; so, for recreation,
Louisa fell, ad interim^ in love
With a tall Adjutant, as unlike Clove
As a Corinthian pillar to a post ;
The Colonel being five feet six at most :
Again, the soldier of the maid's election
Sang, play*d the flute and lover to perfection ;
And though not wealthy, he had expectations

Not bounded by promotion ; while he bore
The very best of martial reputations,

And was, of course, the idol of his corps.

In fact, a braver ofl&cer ne*er march'd ;

And then he was so portly and upright.

And, like the veteran in our plate, was quite
A martial j^^wre, although not so starch'd.
O ! there are moments in the little span
Which metes the brief and busy life of man.
Of keen delight, and sinless, too, as aught

Can be that hath in it the bitter leaven
Of human passion ; and O ! I have thought.

Of all the joy that is not born of heaven.

a^f.

THE TWO ADJDTANTS. 121

Ikzt is most exquisite wbich thrills the heart
When the fond glance, by young affection
lighted, —

Ihe smile — the tear — the whisper doth impart
The blesa'd assurance that our love's requited.

If such be happiness, the enamour'd pair.

My heroine and hero, had their share.

The adjutant, whose name was, Edward Stanley,
Of the brave 43d, was a frank, manly,
Straight-forward character, and felt it due
To both their reputations, to pursue
His passion openly, the damsel wooing

In pic-nic jaunts, and boatings up the Tamar :
At last, ^e Colonel came, and spoil'd their cooing,

And sought Louisa's domicile, to claim her.
He found the lady with her cousin Phcebe,

At breakfast, in the parlour, vis-d-vis;
Our heroine, with the look and grace of Hebe,

Dispensing nectar in the shape of tea.

122 THE TWO adjutants:

Her moroing gown was one of the new prints,—
What name they give the stuff Vm not quite
certain,
But think the women call it squintz or cMntz,—
In fact, Hwas very like my chamber curtain.
(I'm writing this in bed, for IVe the ague,
Which malady, I trust, will never plague you.)
Louisa did not blush nor hang her head.
But, when her beau advanced, with gouty tread,
To take, as Paddy Bull would say, the fist of her,
Says she, " I hope you're very well. Sir Chris-
topher.

" You have not breakfasted. Sir! — (touch the bell,
That's a dear, Phoebe) — pray, Sir, take a seat —
(Another cup and saucer, Thomas) — I entreat

You will not stand. Sir — you're not looking well:

Perhaps — (let the Westphalian ham be put on)—

You'd like a cushion, Sir, to rest your foot on :

Pray which is farthest, Paris or Bombay ?

And did you come by stage. Sir, idl the way?

Do tell us all about those dear Hindus ;

What are they in religion, Turks or Jews ?

I've heard the Khan of Tartary's a quaker,
And wears a broad-brimm'd hat ; — pray is that

true, Sir?
Have bonzes pretty plumage ? — tell us do, Sir;

And pray what kind of animal's a fakir ?

THE TWO ADJOTANTS. 123

Is that your horse ? How fat he is ! I'm sure
You did not buy the creature at Nagpoor.

NAGPOOR,

Did you use bows and arrows upon service ?

Those brahmins are brave troops, I understand ;

They're natives, are they not, of Newfoundland ?
And, Colonel, did you ever shoot a dervise?
And is it like a paroquet, a green bird ?
And sepoys-^ what's a sepoy ? — a marine bird ?*'
Louisa hoped, by this affected jargon,

To make the brave Sir Christopher declare off;
But he in love was, probably, too far gone,

And thought, perhaps, such childishness would
. wear off
When she'd the benefit of the society
Of one of his dense wisdom and sobriety.

1 24 THE TWO ADJCTT AKTS.

Miss Phoebe, whom we've introduced already^
Display'd a perfect contrast to her cousin.
Whose tongue was running " nineteen to i
dozen,"

Being, most grave, sententious, and steady.

She had been, in her time, a " bonnie lassie,"

But was, at this same juncture, un pen passie ;

In fact, she long had pass*d the season vernal,
And, knowing of Louisa's predilection,
Would not, it seems, have had the least ob
jection

To the refusal of the gallant Colonel :

And thus Sir Kit lay open to the arts

Of her who did, and her who did not choose=^
him;

While both to admiration play'd their parts.
The one to gain, the other one to lose him.

It was our heroine's policy to raise

In Christopher's esteem her cousin Phoebe,

Whose name she never mention'd but with praise;
" O what a treasure," Lou exclaim'd, " would
she be

To him who could but coax her into marriage !"
While Phoebe, ('twas concerted by this pair
Of deep conspirators,) should, an contraire^

Avail of each occasion to disparage

THE TWO ADJUTANTS, 125^

Louisa in the Coloners estimation ;
And Phoebe, to this end, whene'er she saw-
Need for its use, had a carte blanche to draw

Ad. libitum on her imagination.
One day, as Phoebe with the knight commander

Walk'd in his newly bought domain, the maid

Improved the opportunity to aid
Her cousin by a little friendly slander.
" I quite agree. Sir Christopher, with you
In all you say of my sweet cousin Lou ;
She is good temper'd, and extremely pretty,
And graceful, and all that; — 'tis such a pity
She is so fond of general admiration !

Not that in her, at home or in society,

I have observed the slightest impropriety ;
But she is young and thoughtless : though flirta-
tion
Is no such great offence ; it is, in truth.
Rather a malady than fault of youth.

^^ I often think how lucky 'tis Louisa
Is destined for your bride ! 'Tis not dis-
praisingly

I speak of the dear child, but she would tease a
Fond and suspicious husband most amazingly.

I am the last my cousin to disparage

To one with whom she's on the point of marriage,

126 THE TWO ADJUTANTS.

Because I dote upon the pretty pet.

These things are mere minutuBf-^Yon may ca

Them foibles, if you will ; but, after all,
They're subjects less of censure than regret.
But what's that bird, Sif Christopher, I see,

Pacing, with measured step, yon alley shady ?
It's like an adj — and yet it cannot be —

It is an adjutant, as I'm a lady !

'< Beware Lou steal it not, for, of all creatures.

She loves an adjutant ->> indeed^ she's go
one —

A fine bird of his species, though 'tis not one
Quite of your sort; he differs in some features ;
His body is, for instance, a bright scarlet.

With golden wings." Said Clove, " I never
heard.

In all my life, of such a curious bird :
Pray is he tame?" " O yes," said s^e, " the

varlet
Follows his mistress. Sir, just like a puppy ;
And when she's indisposed and don't get up, he
Is quite a nuisance, and makes such a rout
About the house, we're glad to get him out."

'^ And do you really, Miss," said Clove, ^^ opine.
That dear Louisa would be pleased with mine ?"

\l

TUB TWO ADJVTASrn* 127

** Why since you ask/* she said, " without
apology,
rU eveo t^ the truth : my cousin Lou
Is passionately fond of ornithology,

And when she heard (I know not how) that
you
Had brought that bird to England, she exclaim'd
' 'Twould make a pleasant mate for hers, when

tamed'/
So if, my dear Sir Christopher, you want
To give my cousin proof of your affection.
You will do well to follow my direction.
And tell her she may have the adjutant.''

The colonel was a man of great pomposity,
Affecting much parade and ostentation ;
And, in his letters and his conversation,

Displayed no trifling portion of verbosity.

He sent the bird, next morning, with a note

To his betroth*d, which FU take leave to quote.

" My dearest girl 1 I can't but reprehend
Your want of candour to your father's friend :
You should have told me of your predilection
For this same adjutant, since, for my part,
I have your happiness so much at heart
I never. should have urged the least objection :

1 28 THE TWO ADJUTANTS.

You're welcome, Lou, to have him; you will

make him,
Tm certain, a kind mistress, therefore take him ;
Believe me still, sincerely yours to be,

C. Clove, Lieut. -CoL k.c.b."

When Lou received the ColoneFs note, she heard

Not the least syllable about the bird ;

In fact, the messenger, who could not speak

A word of English, turn*d the adjutant

Into some out-house, where, lest he should
want,
He left him with provisions for a week ;
While Lou repaired to her boudoir to pen
Her thanks to the " most generous of men."
Old Clove, delighted, as will be believed,
To find his gift so graciously received.
Perused Louisa's note in his post-chaise,

Having, that morning, heard from his attor-
ney

On matters which required a hasty journey
To London, where he sojourn'd several days.

When Christopher return'd from town, he flew.
Of course, upon the wings of love, to Lou,
Who, grateful for his recent liberality,
Received him with the warmest cordiality,

u

<€

THE TWO ADJUTANTS. 129

Alluding, with much feeling, to his. letter.

And so you like the adjutant, do you ?
And quite as well as at the first ?" — Says Lou,

" I think. Sir Christopher, I like him better."
*' That's well," says he, " I'm glad you've not
repented.

But that he still enjoys your approbation :

And how likes he his alter'd situation ? "
** 1 think, Sir, I may say he's quite contented.

** But here he comes : I'll introduce you, Sir ;
My dear, this is oiir friend, Sir Christopher, — .
This is my husband. Sir," — ** Your husband,
Madam I

Nay — thi^ is really too much to endure," —

^''Tis Mr, Stanley, Sir, — you know" — " I'm sure
I should not know the gentlemaji from Adam !
Louisa married ! I don't understand " —
" Then read that letter, Sir, in your own hand."
'* Confusion ! but you know I meant the bird —

The adjutant, which with the note I sent ;

What other adjutant d'ye think I meant?" —
" Lieutenant Stanley, of the 43rd,"

Says Christopher, ** The thing's beyond a joke.
And I will put it to Lieutenant Stanley,
If it be fair, or soldier-like, or manly,

To take advantage of an equivoque ;

G 2

\

130 THE TWO ADJUTANTS.

I blush to find an officer degrade his

Commission thus; but FU have satisfactioti \**
*< Well, so you shall, but not before the ladies ;
Here comes her brother ; — who on the trans-
action
May throw some light : Pray, Robert, have you

heard
That Lou received the preschit of a bird
From good Sir Christopher ? 1 think they call
The thing an adjutant — it's very tall.**

"Present?" said Robert; " none that I'm
aware of.
There was a spit-legg'd creature, with a bill
As long as an attorney's, which black Will,
The colonel's valet, brought us to take care of.
As we supposed : the men know more about
The matter, for he made a precious rout ;
Knock'd down the keeper, and broke Stephen's
shin.
Capsized the dairy-maid, and so bemaul'd
The cook, that had she not for succour call'd,
She had not had a whole bone in her skin.
At last he got an ugly thump, which lamed him.
For near three days, and that, I take it, tamed

him.
I bade them not divulge it, for I knew
Twould but alarm my timid sister Lou."

THE TWO Ai)JOtANTS» J 33

The Colonel saw 'twas clearly a mm-take,
And, though he'd lost a wife by it, 'twould make
Things not a whit the pleasanter to bluster,
At length — that is, as soon as he could muster
Sufficient calmness — with a brighten'd look,
Advancing to the company, he took
Louisa's young Zi/e-tenant by the hand :
^* Sir, since I find the affair has not been plann'd
To cheat me of a wife, the fate I bless

Which gives the fair to one of our profession ;
. And so I wish you joy of this accession —
For such it must be — to your happiness."
The Colonel's grief was transient, though strong ;
For three weeks after, it appears, he tied
Th' indissoluble knot : the happy bride
Was Mrs. Stanley's cousin, Phoebe Long.

Years have roll'd on since first our hero hail'd
His youthful bride; and time, though wont to
chill

Th' affections of the heart, hath not prevaii'd
To weaken theirs, for they are lovers still ;

Each is the other's joy, and hope, and pride ;
And not less brightly burns the love-lit torch,
Than when, from out the village temple's porch,

The happy bridegroom led the blushing bride.

\

134 THB TWO ADJUTANTS.

The while, it ■■ (heir blessed lot to sec
Fair " olive braDchee round their table" g
Which, w« may hope, in after years will t)

Their shade and shelter o'er the parent tree.

THE MONK OF SAINT DOMINIC,

Of all the cavaliers of Spain, the most distia-'
guished of his day was Don Manuel, v He had
half-a-dozen names, but it is unnecessary to trou-
ble the reader, and lengthen my story, with the
other five. He was the son of a Spanish gentle-
tnan by an. English lady, both of whom dying
young, he was left, at the age of fifteen years,
with a very handsome provision, to the guardian-
ship of his father's relatives.

In point of accomplishments, Manuel was not
inferior to the generality of young men of his
rank and fortune, although I do not learn that,
like the trio on the opposite page, he was charge^
able with an inordinate expenditure of midnight
oil : on the contrary, it was reported that his
conversation savoured rather of the bower than
the lamp.

His mother, having been a Protestant at heart,
was supposed to have instilled into his young
mind a prejudice against the religion of his coun-
try, which the system of education subsequently
pursued by her husband's relations, instead of

138 THE MONK OF ST. DOMINIC

weakening, was calculated to strengthen. Thus
it happened, that, when released from the tram-
mels of guardianship, he was not remarkable for
his bigotry to the established church ; while the
unreservedness of his disposition occasionally be-
trayed him into expressions which, being heaid
by many, and repeated by more, were not inter-
preted in a manner very favourable to hk
orthodoxy..

His attachment to English society, again, gave
exceeding scandal to those venerable authorities
who were not less celebrated for their devotedness
to '' mother church,'' than for their abhorrence of
heretics of every denomination, and of Protestants
in particular. Still, however, as he was young,
handsome, and rich, he found ready admission to
the first families in Spain ; while his acquaintance
was especially sought by those who, having pedi*
grees longer than their purses, and a progeny
more numerous than their acres, would have
deemed his alliance the best consolation under
the loss of the society of their eldest marriageable
daughters.

It chanced that, among other qualifications of
sovereign efficacy in assisting young gentlemen
into scrapes, Manuel had a heart as ignitible as
a piece of German tinder, on which a glance from

THE MOKK OF ST. DOMINIO. 139

a fair lady's eye acted like a spark. He was,
one evening, at an entertainment giyeti by a
nobleman of high rank, whose grounds were laid
out, and splendidly illuminated, for the reception
of his guests. Some of the company were en
masque, and others in &ncy dresses: Manuel,
however, influenced perhaps by an excusable va-
nity, which might suggest, that his '* fair propor-
tions" needed '' not the foreign aid of ornament,''
was in the ordinary attire of a gentleman of the day.
He had, early in the evening, attached himself
to a young lady of whom he had some slight
previous knowledge, and with whom, between the
intervals of dancing, he strolled through the
gardens. Whether, in choosing the most se-
questered walk, they were influenced by its su-
perior coolness, by a desire of listening to the
warblings of the nightingale, or to the more melli-
fluous cjEidences of their own voices, I am unable
to determine; nor am I warranted in assuming
the air of satisfaction with which the one paid,
and the other received, his attentions, as proof
positive of their having been engaged in that
pleasant and popular pastime vulgarly termed
** making love," but which a certain philoso-
pher has defined " hearing one lie and telling
another,"

1 40. THE MONK OF ST. BOMIKIC.

Time, it is well known, is no friend to loversr-
he always trayels either too fast or too slow for
them; and thus, when Inez was summoned by
Don Guzman, her uncle and guardian, to attend
him home, Manuel could not help breathing a
hearty malediction upon all fast-going clocks, for
depriving him of ten minutes of the fair damsel's
society.

He was sauntering by himself through one of
the avenues which led towards the house of his
entertainer, when, in a retired spot, a figure in a
mask and domino emerged from a thicket, and
stood in the path before him. Manuel endea*
voured to avoid the intruder, but the latter seemed
determined not to be shaken off.

*' May I inquire,*' said the former, somewhat
haughtily, '^ who it is that is so pertinaciously
bent on obliging me with his society.''

** That is a matter which concerns you less
than my errand," observed the other.

<* And pray what may be the object of that?"
continued Manuel.

" Your safety," said the mask.

<* Whence proceeds the peril ?" asked Manuel.

" From the Holy Office," was the answer,

" To what am I indebted for the distinguished
honour of its notice V* rejoined the querist.

THB HONJ^ OF JST. DOMINIC 141

" To many things : among the rest, to the
singular prudence which prompted your tirade
against the grand inquisitor in the house of his
nq)hew^the Duke D'Aranda," replied the stranger.
" But it is not," he continued, " the anger alone
of the Holy Office which you have to fear, seeing
that, with no inconsiderable dislike to your per-
son, it cherishes a somewhat overweening affection
for your money-bags."

" Your words may be sooth for aught I know,"
observed Manuel, " but you can scarcely expect
me, a stranger to your character and motives, to
place implicit reliance on your information."

" Possibly," was the answer, " you will be dis*
posed to give more credence to it when I remind
you of another specimen of your discretion."

^* And what may that be?*' asked Manuel.

" Your letter," said the other ** to your Fidus
Achates, Don Francisco, wherein you compliment
the prime minister by the titles of apostate and
renegade."

" Francisco cannot have betrayed me!" re-
joined the other.

^' Behold the proof!" said the stranger, putting
into Manuel's hand a transcript of the letter.

'' Infamous traitor!" exclaimed tljie latter;
" but I will have revenge."

142 THE MOKK OF ST. DOMINIC.

^' You bad better not/* remarked the myste-
riouB personage, ^* for it will cost you time, and
you have none to spare ; but be counselled by
me : convert your wealth into the most portable
shape, and put the sea between you and the grand
inquisitor with all possible expedition."

** I wbh,*' said Manuel, ** that I bad known
of this before ; I should then have had one tie the
fewer to break.*'

*' You mean, I suppose," continued the stranger,
*^ the chain which you and a certain nameless
lady have been weaving for these last three
hours; but be warned in time, and suffer not
yourself to be held by silken bands, lest you
exchange them for fetters of iron. Besides, for
your comfort be it known, that Don Guzman de-
signs his niece for a convent, and, if I mistake
him not, the occurrences of this evening are
scarcely of a character to make him forego his
intention. But what light is that in the eastern
horizon ?"

Don Manuel looked in the direction which the
other had indicated, and, on turning round again,
perceived that the mysterious stranger was gone.

The warning, however, was not of a nature to
be neglected by our young cavalier, who, having
gathered, on the following day, additional evi-

THir MO)?K OF ST. DOMINIC. 143

dence of the danger which enccHnpassed him,
immediately concerted measures with his British
friends for the transfer of his disposable wealth
to England. The secrecy and caution which were
so essentially requisite in the realisation of his
property, tended to protract the business, and it
was some weeks before he could arrange it to his
satisfaction. It will naturally be concluded that,
having secured his wealth, his personal safety
would have been his next care, but the uncer-
tainty in which the fate of Donna Inez, who had
been removed from her uncle's, was involved, in-
duced him to defer, from day to day, the arrange-
ments for his departure.

He had, one summer evening, been taking a
walk in the suburbs, and was returning, when he
perceived that he was dogged by a party of men,
whom he had no difficulty in recognising as fami-
liars of the Inquisition. Manuel was not defi-
cient in courage or spirit, but, as he had not
arrived at that proficiency in the " noble art of
self-defence," which enabled the Frenchman to
ward off, in a shower of rain, every drop at point
of rapier, he deemed " discretion the better part
of valour,'' and fairly took to his heels.

The myrmidons of the holy office had no in-
tention of losing sight of their prey, and, accord-

144 THE MOKK OF ST. DOMINIC.

ingly, pursued him at full speed. Don Manuel,
however, turned an angle of a building, about
twenty yards in advance of them, when, per-
ceiving a postern-gate to open in the wall, he
rushed through it, and, having overturned the
janitor in his hurry, found himsdf in a conveut
garden surrounded by a bevy of nuns.

With a general shriek, excited by so unwonted
an apparition, away flew the sisterhood in a body,
leaving him alone with a female differently ha-
bited from the rest, and whom, on turning to
address her, he discovered to be no other than
Donna Inez !

" Rash man ! " exclaimed the lady, " how"^ —

" Nay," replied Manuel, before she could
finish the sentence, '^ do not let the first words
which I have heard from those dear lips, after
so dreary an interval, be those of reproach."

In a few minutes, the return of the nuns,
headed by the abbess, interrupted him in a
speech which, however admirably it might have
been adapted to a bay-window or an alcove,
could not have been worse timed or more misplaced
than on the occasion in question.

The lady-abbess was a black-eyed, dark-com-
plexioned dame, of about five-and-forty, with
whom monastic fare and discipline appeared

THE MONK OF ST. DOMINIC. 147

to have thriven marvellously, seeing that, al-
though she was shorter by the head than the
most diminutive of her sisteriiood, she would
have outweighed any three of them«

^' Young man/' said she, addressing the in-
truder^ '^ what could have driven you to commit
this indecent outrage?"

** Six familiars of the Holy Office/' was Ma-
nuel's reply, '^ who were close at my heels ; and
as the choice seemed to lie between a prison and
a paradise, you cannot wonder that I should
prefer the latter."

" Forbear this irreverent jesting," continued
the abbess, ^' so unbecoming of this place and
presence, and the perilous position into which
you have so madly brought yourself; for you
are aware, I presume, of the penalty which your
rashness has incurred. "

" The truth is," said he, " I never bestowed a
thought upon the subject ; — my pursuers were
on my skirts, I saw an open gate, and cared not,
at the moment, whither it led ; for had it been
the crater of Mount Vesuvius, I believe I should
have jumped into it, rather than have fallen into
their hands."

At that moment a loud knocking at the great
gate of the convent was heard, and, in a short

H

148 THE MONK OF ST. DOMINIC.

time afterwards, the portress, who had received
the message through the iron bars, annouaced
to the abbess that the familiars of the Inquisi-
tion demanded the surrender of the luckless
cavalier.

'^ Ah ! *' exclaimed Manuel, whose vivacity of
temper even the danger by which he was en-
compassed could not entirely subdue, '' 'tis as I
apprehended : that foremost man squinted fear-
fully, and his eye must have turned the corner
before himself. But,^' he continued in a graver
tone, " I am a lost man !"

" Dearest mother," cried one of the nuns to
the abbess, '^ do not give him up to those cruel
men ; they will tear him limb from limb ^ith
their horrid racks."

'^ And pluck out his eyes," said a second.

" Or starve him by inches," observed a third.

*' And so proper a man, too," remarked a
fourth.

The abbess was a woman of spirit, and, being
closely allied to royalty, had considerable interest
at the court. " Tell them," said she to the por-
tress,^' that this sanctuary, albeit it hath, in the
present case, been somewhat rudely sought, shall
not be violated. Tell them, also, that the Abbess
of St. Ursula hath a king's blood in her veins,^

THE MONK OF ST. DOMINIC. 149

and will not want for friends to support her
rights^ in tbe teeth of the Grand Inquisitor him-
self.^'

"Nay/* said Don Manuel, coming forward,
'^ tiie highest boon I intended to have craved,
had I escaped their search, would have been dis-
missal by the postern at nightfall ; but I wilk
not, by taking advantage of your generosity, em-
broil you with so powerful an antagonist as the
Holy Office. ■' So saying, in spite of entreaty
and remonstrance, he advanced to the gate of
the convent, and surrendered himself.

On his way to the Inquisition, Manuel endea-
voured to elicit from his captors the nature of
the crime of which he was accused ; but they,
according to their custom, referred him to his
own conscience for information on the subject;
and in order that his mind might not be dis-
tracted in the examination by external objects,
they confined him in a dungeon from which the
light was so carefully excluded, that his ac-
quaintance with the furniture was acquired solely
through the medium of touch.

The only provisions with which his abode was
supplied were a pitcher of water and a loaf, which
latter appeared, by the resistance it opposed to
his teeth, to have been, with a laudable forecast.

150 TH£ MONK OF ST. DOMINIC.

purchafed at least a week in anticipation of his
arriTal. The bolts of his dungeon were not
withdrawn until about twelve o'clock on the
third night of his incarceration, when the door
opened, and admitted a person habited as a
monk, who carefully closed it after him, and
disposing a dark lantern so as partially to illu-
minate the apartment, pronounced a benedictioD
on the prisoner, and sat down beside him«

<< May I inquire,^' said the cavalier, after a
few seconds had elapsed, ** the office which the
person whom I now address holds in this pa-
lace of terrors? "

** Corkscrew," was the laconic reply.

^^ By which I am to understand,^ said the
other, *^ one of those wretches whose degrading
task it is to insinuate themselves into the confi-
dence of the miserable captives, for the purpose
of betraying them. Rest assured, however, that
you will get nothing out of me."

'^ Such was not my object," returned the
visitor ; << on the contrary, I wanted to throw
something into you, and have accordingly," he
added, producing k basket from under his frock,
** brought you wherewithal to mend your fare,
which, I apprehend, hath been rather of the
simplest of late."

THB MONK OF ST. DOMINIC. 151

" In order, I suppose/' rejoined Manuel, bit-
terly, '' to rid the Holy Office of their prisoner
without the trouble and formality of a trial."

^' You are pleased to be complimentary, Se-
fior/' was the reply ; ^^ but as I happen to be
somewhat in your predicament, having eaten
nothing to-day worth speaking of, perhaps you
will allow me to give you assurance of fair play
by setting the example."

Thus saying, the monk, for such he was, of
the order of St. Dominic, commenced an attack
upon a cold capon ; and slicing off a wing, with a
modest portion of the breast, in a style which
proved him to be quite familiar with the anatomy
of the bird, pushed it over to Manuel, and
desired him to fall to without fear or cere-
mony.

Our cavalier, whose stomach yearned at the
sight of the viands, did not require a repetition of
the invitation, and, after demolishing the corre-
sponding wing of the fowl, was proceeding to
wash it down with a draught of water from the
pitcher, when the monk placed his hand upon
his arm, and exclaimed, *' By no manner of
means, while there is better liquor to be had ;"
and, producing a flask of Xeres, poured out a
glass for himself and his companion^ and added,

h2

152 THE MOKK OF ST. DOMINIC.

*^ He of the mask and domino drinks to your
speedy deliverance."

" I judged," exclaimed Manuel, " that I
should know that voice ; but how comes it that
a person, of whose benevolent intentions towards
me I cannot now entertain a doubt, could con-
sent to take upon him an office which must be,
in every respect, so repugnant to his feelings V*

" My story is a brief one," said the monk,
*^ and you may find it dry, so prithee replenish
thy glass. Were I a roan to boast of my de-
scent, I should say that my father, if not of the
equestrian order, belonged to the next in rank,
seeing that he was a muleteer. I led a rambling
life until I was about ten years old, when the
superior of a monastery, conceiving, probably,
that the shade of a cloister would be less preju-
dicial both to my morals and my complexion,
than exposure in the streets, offered to relieve
my father of the trouble and expense of my
future education. My worthy parent was not a
man to hesitate in accepting such a proposal,
and instantly resigned me to the reverend prior ;
although it is reported that I was much missed
m the family, for some time afterwards, particu-
larly at their meals, at which I was wont to play
a distinguished part. ^

THE MONK OF ST. DOMINIC 155

«

I continued a great favourite with my
patron until his death, which happened shortly
after I assumed the cowl. From that moment
I became the drudge of the community, and
^ould probably have remained so until this
hour, had not our spiritual superior deemed it
expedient to despatch a monk of our order to
Lapland, when, on a sudden, my piety and leari^^
ing blazed out upon my brethren, who, und voce^
recommended me as possessing all the qualities
to insure success to the mission. Its object iS)
of course, a secret, as are, even to myself, the
benefits which accrued from it. I found the
natives a quiet, inoJORensive, unsophisticated race^
and certainly not given to driving hard bargains,
inasmuch as one of them, with all the simplicity
conceivable, offered me his wife and child at the
moderate price of a bottle of brandy. The lady,
however, who did not want spirit, though her
husband did, refused to ratify the contract, and
thus saved me the trouble of arguing the matter
with the worthy Laplander. I returned, happily,
without leaving my toes or my nose behind me
as a tribute to the reigning monarch — the frost ;
and, as a reward for my diligence, was installed
in my present oflSce, for which, as I am a man
and a sinner, I protest to you I have no vocation.

156 THE MOKK OF ST. DOMINIC.

However, I do not repent having accepted it,
since I have been enabled to effect a consider-
able saving to the country in the article of
faggots, by giving some of the intended martyrs
of the Inquisition a previous intimation of the
honour designed for them."

'^ And, in one instance, at least, have been
doomed," exclaimed Don Manuel, '^ to see your
benevolent intentions defeated by the incon-
ceivable fatuity of the man whom your warning
was meant to save. But surely my judges will
not condemn me unheard ?"

" Assuredly not," was the monk*s reply; " but
when they have heard you, they will as certainly
condemn you as they will eat their dinner ; and
then the san benito and the stake will follow
of course."

" And is my case so desperate?" inquired the
young man, mournfully: " is there no way by
which to escape the dreadful doom ?"

" Yes," said the other, " but it is beset by
dangers. We men of the cowl and cloister
know little of the other sex, and, as what we do
know is gleaned at the confessional, we view
their character only on one side, and that cer-
tainly not the brighter. Perseverance, however,
is not to be denied to them ; for when they have

THE MONK OF ST. DOMINIC. 157

made up their minds to a measure, it is not a trifle
that will stand in the way of its accomplishment.
Your friend, the fat abbess, for instance, from
the moment she ascertained that you did not
come as a hawk among her pigeons, resolved on
doing her utmost to save you, and contrived to
procure the intervention of the court, on your
behalf, with the Grand Inquisitor. The latter
worthy, however, refused to compromise his in-
fallibility by consenting to your acquittal ; but, at
last, agreed to connive at your escape, provided
it could be accomplished without committing
their reverences with the subordinates of the
establishment."

" Then," exclaimed the prisoner, eagerly,
*' there is a ray of hope?"

" Yes," replied the monk, opening the door of
the dungeon, ^* and it beams through the wicket
at the end of the corridor yonder, and would
shine all the brighter if it were not for that tall
fellow with the musket on the other side of it."

" Who," inquired Manuel, " is the barrier
between me and liberty ?"

" Even so," returned the monk, " the affair
is entirely between you and the sentinel. Disarm
and overpower him if you can, yet beware you
shed not the blood of an innocent man, who, in

158 THE MOVK OF ST. DOMINIC

whatever oppoeitioii he may make^ will but be
dischaigiog his daty/*

Don Manuel would immediately have pro-
ceeded upon the enterprise ; but the monk de-
sired him to pause until the clock had chimed)
when the good father conducted him to the
postern, and bade him conceal himself in a nook
behind the wicket (which opened by a spring on
the inside), and wait until a favourable oppor-
tunity presented itself. The monk told him,
that should he succeed, he would find a horse
ready saddled, in a shed, within a short distance
of the prison ; then, after counselling him as to
the road he should pursue, the good father bade
him prosper, and ascended a flight of steps leading
to a tower, which was immediately over the spot
on which the sentinel was keeping guard.

The soldier, however, instead of pacing to and
fro, was leaning against a post, with his eyes
fixed upon the gate, and his musket in readiness
to fire upon any unprivileged person who might
attempt egress. More than once Manuel was
tempted to spring out upon him and put the
matter to issue, even at such fearful odds; but
prudence had yet power to restrain him. At
last, a small paper packet fell, as if from a
window of the tower, at the soldier's feet. As

TH£ MONK OF ST. DOMINIC 159

he Stooped to pick it up, Manuel rushed through
the gate, which closed after him, and threw him-
self upon the sentinel. The latter, however, was
a powerful man, and, even with one knee upon
the ground^ maintained a firm grasp of his
weapon. A fearful struggle ensued, during
which the tough sinews and sturdy strength of
the sentinel for a long time baffled the activity
of Manuel, who, at last, succeeded in fixing his
foot upon the other's chest, and, by a desperate
and final effort, wresting away the musket.

The soldier made an attempt to regain his
weapon; but our cavalier, directing the muzzle
towards him, retired with his face to his an-
tagonist, who, at last, turned round, and ran
off to give the alarm ; to do which, however, as
he could not enter by the gate, he was compelled
to make a considerable ditour to the grand
entrance of the building.

In the meantime, Don Manuel, after Hinging
the musket into a ditch, mounted the horse,
which he found in the place appointed, galloped
off, and, by a circuitous ride of an hour, gained
a point cm the road, at which, had he dared to
take the straight path, he might have arrived in
a few minutes. At this spot, in conformity with
the monk's instructions, he waited until the ar-

160 THE MONK OF ST. DOMINIC-

rival of a party, whose costume bad been de-
scribed to him.

In a few minutes, he heard the tramp as of
mounted travellers, and, shortly after, two per-
sons, one riding a handsome active mule, and
the other a sorry jade, approached the spot
Manuel, although in the gray light of the morn-
ing, had no difficulty in recognising in the
female figure Donna Inez, by whose side, with a
bound of his steed, he placed himself, and from
whom he ascertained that her uncle, finding the
worthy abbess would not consent to retain the
young lady, with a view to her taking the veil
against her inclination, had despatched a messen-
ger to remove her to another convent, some miles
distant, whose superior was altogether free from
any such conscientious scruples.

*' But why, dearest Inez," exclaimed Ma-
nuel, " why submit to be immured in a living
tomb, when there is one at your side who, with
his hand, can offer you fortune and happiness in
a land of liberty, to which a few days' sail will
transport us ?"

Inez's reply was a glance at her companion,
who was evidently impatient of the stranger's
conference with his charge.

" Give the rein to your mule," whispered

THE MONK OF ST. DOMINIC* 163

Manuel, ^ and she will carry you beyond the reach
of your attendant at a bound."

Whether it occurred to Inez that such a
chance of liberty and a husband might not again
present itself, or that she could not, in reality,
restrain her mule, I know not; but certain it is,
that, in a few minutes, they were out of sight
and hearing of her follower.

They then turned from the direct road, and
as they were proceeding more leisurely towards
a little village on the coast, they passed the
Monk of St. Dominic, who, by taking a short
cut, intercepted them, for the purpose of assuring
himself of the success of his plans.

It is almost unnecessary to inform the reader,
that the packet, which fell at the feet of the
sentinel, was dropped by the monk, who, havmg
been previously apprised of the hour at which
Donna Inez and her guide would set out on their
journey, had so timed Manuel's escape, and di-
rected his route, that he could scarcely fail to
encounter ^em on the road.

The young lovers were united by the priest
of the village, from which they embarked for
England, where, I have autliority for statmg,
they arrived in safety, and where Manuel's pre-

164 THE MOMK OF ST. DOHIMIC.

vious remittancea enabled them to live in re-
spectability and comfort.

The worthy monk, it wu understood, found it
neceasary to expatriate himself, and take refuge
in a convent in Ireland, where, although his life
might probably be referred to the onler of which
our tail-piece is symbolical, he was secure from
the vengeance of the bigots, whose cruel pur-
poses he had go frequently frustrated.

THE FALSE ONE.

A MODZRX 8APPHO*8 LAMZITT.

And is it true that thou art fake?

And false that thou art true ?
And am I doom'd to prove the fate

The Lesbian damsel knew ?
Yes ! far away^ for good and aye.

My faithless lover 's gone ;
And I am left, of hope bereft,

And falsehood's name is John i

I trusted to thy traitor kiss^—

How fondly love beguiles 1
The warm impression on my lips

Did coin them into smiles.
From others' sighs and ardent eyes,

In listless scorn, I tum'd,
And many a youth of matchless truth,

For thy dear sake, I spum'd*

168 THE FALSE ONE.

Twas but last night, a love-sick wight

Advanced his bold pretension.
Which I declined — like gradm, since

It was the fourth declension.
A prey to care, I ne'er shall wear

Bride favours white as snow,
Denied the lot to tie the knot

Of true-love with a beau,

Alas! I cannot stniggle long

Against a grief so keen.
For, day by day, I waste away.

And grow more lank and lean
Than erst was valiant Dalgetty

Reduced to half a ration.
Whose belt fell down unto his heels

From sheer extenuation.

Though FuiT on my tomb-stone Death,

With his keen dart, shall chisel.
And through the long grass on my grave

The wind' my dirge shall whistle ;
My story shall live after mej

And be remember'd long,
For tuneful bards^ with Attic salt, •

Shall pickle it in song.

TH£ FALS£ ONE. 169

And tbtldreu that are yet unboniy.

When they shall hear^my tale^
Shall }^ aside their gingerbread,

My tK>rrowB to bewail ;
And Pity, while they think upon

My early blighted hope.
Shall wash their little cheeks with tears.

And save a world 6f soap.

But thy false heart for this shall smart,

And O! that envied pillow
Thy faithlessness forbids me share

Shall be like ocean's billow,
On which thy head shall nightly toss,

And thou shalt seek in vain
To drowii, in sleep's forgetfulness,

Thoughts that will haunt thy brain.

Nor peace nor rest shall soothe thy i>reast,

For, shouldst thou hfiply dose.
Foul Incubus shall dance thereon.

To the bag-pipe of thy nose ;
While round thy bed, in visions dread,

Shall gather goblin faces,
And imps of all degrees and shapes

Shall scare thee with grimaces.

THU FALSE ONE.

Such hideouB sights shall haunt thy nighU,

Save when tbe startling scream
Of night-biids foul, the bat and owl,

Shall chase thy feverish dream.
No moonlight sweet thine eye shall greet,

But thou shall wake to see
The raven's wing its shadow fling

'Twixt all that 's bright and thee !

*"'"*'• RWOtl«Hi.

THE GOVERNESS*

Marmaduke Melxowpate was apprenticed to
a tallow-chmidler, whose tra4e, whatever it may
want of the genteel, mfty certainly be designated
a Hghi one^ Shortly after the completion of his
seven years' servitude, he was placed^ by the libe-
rality of his friends, who were monied persons,
in a' snug, ready-mside business^ which^ by dint of
industry and thrift, he succeeded in rendering
daily more productive.

His next thoughts were on matrimony ; but, as
he had already one woman in his establishment,
who, officiating in the joint capacities of house-
keeper and '' maid of all work," was quite as
much as he could manage, he was apprehensive
that the introduction of another female into his
family might prove a hazardous exp^iment. To
escape from this dilemma, ^ he bit tipon the
notable expedient of augmenting the dignity and
duties of his faithful Sally by making her his;
wife ; and as the damsel, fully sensible of the
danger of delay in such a cs^se, eonaepted on the
instant, our tallow-chandler ^as saved the time

174 THE 60VBBKESS.

which would have been wasted in g^ing the
affections of a lady of higher hopes and nicer
scruples.

Marmaduke, in the course of time, gained a
large fortune and a consequent importance among
his fellow-citizens ; he was, for many yearsj the
oracle of the ward meetings, and finally attained
to the dignity of a seat in the common'KK>unci1,
having, in tlie interim, acquired such a rotundky
of figure, that his election might have been tenn-
ed a double return, since he occupied the space
of two on the benches of that august assembly.
I should have mentioned that, among his ii^r-
mediate acquisitions, he had four daughters and
a son, of whom the latter was the eldest. Of the
former. Miss Julia, at the period to which our
history more particularly refers, owned to two-
and-twenty, while the eldest of her younger
sisters had but just launched into her teens.

Jnlia, who had commenced her studies at a
sixpenny day-schod, was jUnished at an ** esti-
blidiment^ in one of the western square3, where,
with other accomplishments, she was taught die
airs of a fine lady, at second-hand from het
gcuvemantey and a supreme contempt for trade
in all its varieties and modifications. Mrs. Mel-
lowpate determined, on the score of eoMioiny as

THE GOYERMSSS* 175

wfU as gentility, that the education of the three
younger girls should be confided to a governess
at home* Accordingly, after having, as she ex-
pressed herself, inquired the^' character*' of half
ft dozen candidates, and propounded the usual
questions as to *' sobriety, honesty, industry, and
folbmerSf** she fixed upon the young lady, but
lor whom, this '' frail memorial" of the house of
Mellowpate would never have been presented to
the reader and to the world.
< Clara Selby, such was the name of the success-
ful aspirant, was a sprightly, sensible, and ac«
oomplished girl^ endowed with a more than or*
dinary share of personal attractions. The first
time I saw her she was attired in a plain white
muslin dress, with a green sash, and a riband of
the same colour around a cottage bonnet ; and as
with light and elastic step she was crossing the
lawn of the citizen's '^ villa," I thought her one of
the most graceful and interesting creatures I had
ever beheld.

It was well for Clara that she possessed a
buoyancy of spirits, and a contentedness of dispo-*
sition, which did not readily yield to the pressure
Qf circuinstances, since the duties which her new
situation involved w^re neither few nor light.
She had to rise early, and wash and dress three

\

I7d THE <^dV£ttNiS8S;

tinruI^chilSren, as wild ais forest colts, whd^iff!>er(6
wont t6 }>i^8(ent themselves for the operatipli in
eVery possible position but the right. Sh6 had
then t6 snperihtend the breaking of their fast- and
teacups, after which school' commenced^ and was
(Continued until within two houi^ of dinli^r. l^s
intenral was apprctpriated to the recreation of her
pupils/ but, as it afforded them a wider- ^op^ for
fhischief, it increased rather than diminished the
cares and responsibilities of our fair heroine.
• The new gofemess was, moredver, required to
mend the* wardrobe as well Us' the ^m^hn^its 'Of

• • - ■

her liopeAil charge ; and, in erder that sh^
might not be exposed to ritalrjr in that hit^est-
ing employment, Mrs. Mellolii^te disitoissed-the
nursery-maid, Ivho had heretofore executed the
office of sempstress to the trio.

Miss Mellowpate in the ihean time kept the pre-
ceptress of her sisters at a becoming di^tande^ It
was insinuated that the origin of her cool, and dc«
casionally contemptuous treatment of Glara, wad
a lurking envy of the latter^s personal attractiohs;
but this I hold to be a malignant fabrication, for
Julia's charms were altogether upon a grander
scale than Clara's : her cheeks were twice as
round and twice as red ; in fact, she would have
made two such beauties as our heroine*

THE GOVERNESS. 179

If the converse of the proposition that ** fami<-
liarity breeds contempt*' be true, Mrs. Mellowpate
must have attained a very high rank in the
esteem of Miss Selby, to whom she deported
herself as to an upper servant, and whose salary
she always designated wages. Again, the uni-
formly respectful attention which her son paid to
the governess, was not calculated to heighten the
regard of the old lady for the object of it ; but,
(>n the contrary, excited, at times, considerable
apprehensions in her mind that Robert would
disgrace his family by marrying beneath his
station.

The common*councilman, who was as good-
natured and warm-hearted a creature as ever
grew fat upon venison and turtle, treated her
with almost paternal kindness. Nor was his
regard for Clara lessened by her occasionally
stealing half an hour, when he was laid up with
the gout, to read the '^ City Article," or the
debates in common council, — an office which
Julia would not, and his wife could not, perform
for him ; for although the old lady could tell
every letter, from A to Z inclusive, when ar-
ranged in the consecutive order in which she
first made their acquaintance, she could make
neither " head nor tail" of them when huddled

i2

180 THE 60V£&H£68.^

togeCher, without regard to alphabetical pre-
cedence, in the columns of a newspaper^ I
infer, however, that she 'was rather more '8uc«
eessful with capitals^ since she was once heard to
express her surprise at having found a curious
book in her daughter's library, entitled: the
** Dog ov Vekus," written, as she gathered
from the name at the bottom of the -title-page,
by oiie John Murray.

In the vicinity of Mr. Mellowpate's country
residence lived Sir Charles Ellerton, who had
just succeeded to the baronetcy with considerable
landed property, and was a frequent guest at
Marmaduke*s table. It will readily be imagined
that Mrs. Mellowpate, who> as the sailors say,
had always *^ an eye to windward,'' was quite
alive to the value of the acquaintance, and lost
no opportunity of improving it; while Julia re-
ceived him with her most gracious smiles, ad-
mired his taste, his horse, and, above all, his
delightful house and grounds —< talked senti-
mentals to the verge of a declaration, and sang
what she dared not say.

The baronet, on the other hand, appeared
equally taken by the attractions of the young
lady, was a daily visitor at the house, and,
when Julia walked out with the children and

THE GOVSUNESS; 181

tlidr gOT(er&e8s, be usually contrived to jointly
party.

Mtsv Mellowpate ivas delighted at this pro-%
ittisitig intimacy^ and would have been the hap«
]piefi€ woman breathing but for the uneasiness
to which Robert's increased attentions . to Miss
Selby subjected her« The old Iady*s appre-
hensions, at last^ became so powerfully excited by
certain whisperings and significant looks, which
she had observed between Clara and her son,
that she determined, to use her own mild ex^
pression on the occasion, ** to send the hussy
about her business;'' and^ accordingly, ^^gave her
warning."

Clara received the intimatbn without exhi-
biting either surprise or displeasure, and Robert
was altogether silent upon the subject. The
common-councilman remonstrated, and her three
pupils, who loved her affectionately, wept in con-
cert at the idea of parting ; but neither tears nor
remonstrance availed with Mrs. Mellowpate, who
was resolute, and, as most of her sex contrive to
do, eventually gained her point.

Language cannot describe the mingled emo-
tions of surprise, consternation, and anger, with
which Mrs. Mellowpate heard, on coming down
to breakfast at ten o'clodc on the morning' on

182 THE GOVSRNfSSi

which Clam Sdby was to take her departure,
that she had been handed into a post-dmisei
about two hourt before^ by Robert Mellowpate,
who jumped in after her, when they were
whirled off as fast as four horses could carry
them. Almost choked with mge and her first
mouthful of French roll, she hastened up to her
liege lord, who was just finishing his toilet, and
exclaimed, '^ Here's a pretty kettle of i&sh !"

** Why, what's the matter ? are consols up^ or
tallows down?*' inquired the citizen^ who had,
in the preceding week, effected a large sale
of the former to make an investment in the
latter.

^' Don't talk to me about your stocks and
your tallow-grease," continued the lady, " when
here's that minx, Clarry Selby, has run away
with our Robert."

** Our Robert," rejoined her husband, with his
characteristic phlegm, ^< is much more likely to
have run away with her : howsomever," he added,
" Bob hasn't made such a bad choice neither;
he'll have the prettiest wife in the ward,"

" Wife !" echoed Mrs. Mellowpate ; << if he
marries her, I'll never speak another word to
him."

*' And if he does not marry her," returned the

Iioii0^ckisen wanplyt^TU dkiiiiherilhiltiy as sure
^ bia oaole's Bob/'

*♦ Wbatf exclaim^ )m wife, " do you with
. to see your family disgraced ?"

" G^rtmnly not," was the reply ; " and least
of ajl by the villany of my son."

At thii^ juncture a post-chaise, drawn by four
liorsesy which Mrs, Mellowpate had Ordered for
the purpose of pursuing the fugitives, stopped at
the door. The common-councilitian, however,
for a long time, refused to join in the chase ;
and it was not until the lady expressed her de-
termination to proceed alone, that her husband,
influenced by the apprehension of her exposing
herself in the expedition, consented to take a
seat beside her. In his way to the vehicle,
despite of the exhortations of his better half, he
made a momentary di^ession into the breakfast
parlour, where he gulped down a cup of coffee,
and deposited in his pocket a plateful of bread
and butter interleaved with sundry slices of
ham^

They were fortunate enough, as a celebrated
Transatlantic writer hath it, " to strike upon
the trail*' of the fugitives; but, although they
gained intelligence of them at every inn at which
(hey stopped to change horses, it was not until

1 d4 TfiE GOVEAKESB.

four o'clock in the afternoon that they came up
with them, which they did at an inn where ^
youhg^ couple had halted to dine*. The com-
mon-councilman had, in the mean time, worked
himself up into a thorough ill^humow with his
son, for having, as he contended, maugre the
demolition of the aforesaid ham and bread and
butter, ** led him such a dance" upon an empty
stomach.

The old lady impelled by her indignation,
and her lord by his keen scent of a haunch of
venison, hastened to the apartment in which the
couple were dining. On entering, they per-
ceived Clara sitting at one end of the table, and
the gentleman at the other^ ^bout to commence
operations on the joint which was sending up its
savoury steams before him.

" Bob!" exclaimed the* citizen, losing at once
his resentment at the 8%ht of his darling dish,
^' let that haunch alone; you know you coald
never carve one in your life ; -^ give me the carv-*
but ha ! what ! whom have we here ? Sir Charles
Ellerton, as I live by bread !"

" Ah ! Mr. Mellowpate," rejoined the baronet,
whom Marmaduke, having been pirepared to meet
his son, did not at first recognise, — *' and Mrs.
Mellowpate too I -— you have fait the time to a

THE CUDYEENBSSr 185

iecojaTdi^but I be^pardba; allow me to i&tix)-
duce Lady Ellerton.? * -

The comtnon-^coiinciliiian's thoughts: soon H-^
yerted to the uncut haunch, frpm which, to hi§
infinite regret, he perceimt the caloric iaist
escaping; but iiis wife «tood perfectly aghast^
At length she articulated, ^* But whereas myson^
Sir?" ■::'■'-

" Why," replied Sir Charles, glancing at hii
watch, >^ at this moment, as- I guess, iipoYi
H:;hange."^

" But," continued Mrs. Meltowpate, " he left
our house with that young lady this morning in a
post-chaise/'

" He did so,** rejoined the baronet, '* and
proceeded with her to the village church, where,
after bestowing upon me the fairest of earth's
treasures, he left me, with the intenjtion of driving
to town, while we proceeded on our way to a
seat I have in this county, which we shall reach
at the next stage."

The partie carrSe then sat down to dinner,
and, after a pleasant hour or two, separated; the
common-councilman and the newly married pair
with mutual expressions of good-will, and Mrs.
Mellowpate with a fixed determination to have
no more pretty governesses*

186 THE GOTISltBSB.

I am bound to add, in nndiealtoQ of oar friend
Robert's taste, which may have snSerad in die
estimation of my leaders, that his afiections had
been engaged, previously to his acquaintance
with Clara, to a young lady, to whom he wai
united shortly after the marriage of the baronet
Hn. Mellowpate had, indeed, selected a richer
match for her ion, in the person of a Weit
India planter'a widow ; but Robert alleged, rea-
sonably enou^, that the lady had a hundred
and fifty slaves already, and he had no desire to
add one to their number.

A ROYAL VISIT,

AK EPISTLE FBOM A YOUNG LADY TO HER FRIEKD.

Dearest Bella! we've had such grand doings in

•London,
A^y I take it, before were ne'er under the sun

done,
While you have been flirting at Sandgate, — a

spot
Very much to my taste, though 'tis rather too

h6t ;
Or, perhaps, for some fossil remains digging

over
The beds of blue clay between Folkstone and

Dover,
Just under those heighto, where the breeze, blow-
ing stiff,
Once sent grandpapa's wig flying over the clifT.

O! why, since, like me, you've for sights such
a thirst.
Didn't you put off your journey till iifter the
firtt?

190 A ROYAL VISIT.

O ! that dear first of August ! I ne*er shall forget

it,-
You should have been with us, — I did so r^ret

it.
You, doubtless, my dear Annabella, lemember
That terribly awful last ninth of November,
When the King should have dined with the city,

in state,
But sent an excuse on the eve of the^^^^.
My stars 1 what alarm and excitement pervaded
All classes of folk, as the streets they paraded.
In that perilous hour, I acknowledge, for one,
I forgot the Mayor's /a^«, in my fears for my own.
How vague were the rumours assigning a reason !
Some spoke of affronts, others hinted at treason ;
The magnates look'd grave, and the populace

raird on,
But in vain, for the monarch would not be pre-
vailed on.
Though an alderman gallantly offer'd, they say,
To enact the commander-in-chief for that day,
And clear the King's path, at the head of the

forces.
On one of his Majesty's cream-colour*d horses.
Civic meetings were call'd, but, alas 1 not a male

of them.
When they heard " explanations,'' eou|d make

head or tail of them :

A ROYAL VISIT« 191

The truth of it was, -^ but, for goodnesB* sake,
Bell,

As you va}iie my credit and friendshipy don't
tell,—

I had it from Pa (a great man in the city.

And a member, you know, of the ** Visit Com-
mittee")—

Tliat old Gog and Magog, those grim-looking

kerns,
Whose clubsy like some others, are heavy con-
cerns,
Had, with trait'rous intention, complotted to fall
On the King and his suite as they enter'd the

hall;
But the Lord Mayor elect the conspiracy scented,
Which was happily thus, by his wisdom, pre-
vented.

Once before, our good King, — ^^he was then

Duke of Clarence, —
At a banquet, served up by Birch, Bleaden, or

Farrance,
In that very same place, had well nigh paid the

price
Of his life for his feast, through another device,
(I think 'twas an anchor supporting a crown,)
Which plump on the table came thundering

down.

191 A BQTAL yi3IT-

His Highn^a escaped, but the yile spervue

ceti,
Diacha^S^ from jtlKt Qvkrtmn'd lampi^ (-twai i

pity !)

Was soatter'd in every dilrectipn, and plt^y'd
Wild hayoc amopg all the lace apd brooftd^.

You will ask, ** Whkt hwi^ these things^ so

carefully nursed
In your ineoioryy to do^ Miss^ with Ai^gust the

first r
My profem is merely a glance retrospec^yey
And pot a digression — so sp^re your inyec-

tive;
But as you grow impatient, we*ll plunge, if you

please,
As my brother Bob hath it, in medias re^
You must know, when the New London Bridge

was completed.
The Committee, addressing our monarch, en-
treated
He would please to walk oyer it first c it was

queer
lo ask royal William to play pioneer !
However, he most condescendingly granted
Their pray'r^ and the cits, at last, got what they

wanted.

A AOYAL VISIT. 193

After some pros and cons, 'twas among them

agreed
That the royal cortege should by water pro-
ceed;
Which was, doubtless, much better than shaking

their bones,
In rumbling state vehicles, over the stones.
There was not a barge, a bow-window, or

attic.
Commanding a view of the pageant aquatic,
That had not been engaged ; but we happen'd to

Tallin
With my school-fellow, little Teresa Tarpaulin,
Through whose kind intervention we managed to

get
An invite to a " dejeiiner d la fourchettCy**
And were boarded and lodged, without trouble or

charges.
In one of her father the lighterman's barges.

'Twas the loveliest day you could picture : the

sky
Was as blue and as bright as your own sparkling

eye;
The river exhibited two rows of craft.
All moor'd, as the learned would say, " fore and

aft;"

K

IH A EOYAL VIBIT.

Each flung to the breeze some gay pennant oc
flag,—

There was not e'en a cock-boat without a red ng.

You could scarcely conceive a scene more pic-
turesque,

Though a group, here and there, hmk'd a little
grotesque.

I saw cluiter'd, foi instance, the Ijmehouse-hok
Tibbaes,

TbeTumbulls, the Smiths, and those frights l)ie
Miss Gibbses.

In fact, I dare say Father Thames never bore

On his tide such a medley of "odd fish" before.

Then among the canaille, on the bank on each side,

One or two pugiUstic encounters we spied ;

Not arising, I take it, from wrath or ebriety.
But just for the sake of a little variety.

ODD FISH.

A BOYAL VISIT. 197

Yet I scarcely need tell you, dear Bell, that, in

spite
Of such scenes, 'twas a truly magnificent sight.

They gave us a grand entertainment on board
Our barge, which with all sorts of good things

was stored.
Mrs.T., a most warm-hearted creature, presided,
Of course, o'er the banquet her husband pro-
vided ;
While he, who a capital carver is reckon'd.
To his kind better half play'd an excellent se-
cond ;
Miss Gibbs (Seraphina Claudine), with a hand

which is
As crimson as beet-root, dispensed the ham sand-
wiches.
And her brother sliced up, with an air quite gen-
teel,
A huge cut-and-come-again fillet of veal.

From the wharfs, on each side, in the warmth
of their loyalty.
Some fired carronades off, in honour of roy-
alty;
But we, with successive reports of champagne,
Saluted the King, as he pass'd with his train.

1

196 AXOTAL VISIT.

At his Majesty's tide tat his consort, and nigh 'era,
With the helm in his hand, was the gallant Sir

Byam;
Another state coxswain embarked at the stairs,
Who has lately been placed at the helm of affairs.
And whose barge to a band-box a punster com-
pared —
It contain'd our loved monarch's Chrey Whig, he
declared.

As the train disembarked, there were scrapings

and greeting —
(I had this from a person who witnessed the

meeting) —
When his Majesty said, in the kindest of tones,
" How d'ye do, Mr. Routh ? — Is that you, Mr.

Jones ?"
The King and his Queen — (don't imagine I joke)—
Walk'd over the bridge just like two other folk,
When they saw the balloon of the famed Mr.

Green^
(Not the only inflated thing present, I ween.
Since royalty's smiles are proverbial, alas !
For puffing up people, like hydrogen gas.)
The banquet came next, which was voted unique:
As our French neighbours say, 'twas mperhe^

magnifique ;

A BOTAL TUIT.

Twas served up in a tent, or pavilion, m gay
As Jack-in-tlie-gieen upon cbimney-sweep's day.

There were fish, flesh, and Tovl, fruit orevery

variety.
In 8uch plenty a glutton might cram to satiety ;
But, strange to relate (the event was most tragic),
The wine disappear'd from the table like magic;
And, though the Committee had laid in a stock —
For tiie cits are no churls — of champagne aad

old hock.
Not an alderman e'en could get hold of a bottle.
For love or for money, to cool his parch'd throttle ;

200 A ROYAL VISIT.

And, though some^ being conjurors, haply could
call

From the " vasty deep" spirits, not one of them
all,

Though they used pretty strong objurgations, were
able

To conjure one bottle of wine on the table.

It soon proved that some tradesmen, sub rosd, as
waiters

Had been smuggled in, and the bibulous traitors

Contrived, or else Rumour tells horrible lies,

'Twixt the cellar and feast to cut oflp the sup-
plies;

Thus creating — (from all such purloiners defend
us !) —

An " hiatus,'* as Bob would say, " vald^ de-
fiendusr

I regret very much that I have not left space

In my letter the speeches and toasts to em-
brace ;

Both were worthy, no doubt, so enlightened a
century —

The cits' were most loyal, their guests' compli-
mentary.

At length, having sipp'd of the spiced loving
cup,

The King took his leave, and the party broke up.

A BOYAL VISIT. 301

Believe me to rest, ever dear Anoabella,
Your sincerely attach'd and aSectiouate

Stblla.

P. S. — Edward Mortimer sat, I omitted to say,
In the barge, close beside me, the whole of the

day;
I can't bear him, you know, but he sings most

delightfully ;
Fanny Fliit was there too, and look'd at us ao

spitefully.
The young man's toell enough, but he's rather

pedantic,
Though his verses are sweet, and his name's quite

romantic.

THE ABBOTS KITCHEN ;

Om, LAYING A 6H08T.

Patrick Rtan was a native of Mullinahone^
in the county Tipperary, which all the world
knows to be in the province of Munster. He
possessed many of the virtues by which the Irish
character, despite the disgrace which agitators
and demagogues have flung upon it, is distin-
guished, with a larger share of ballast than
usually falls to the lot of his countrymen. He
was, however, one of a numerous family, every
successive addition to which rendered their little
potato piece less adequate to their wants, until,
at length, when work became scarce, they found
their domestic comforts reduced to a murphy and
a half per diem.

Under these circumstances, a general effort
was made by the members of the family to get
their living away from the paternal mud cabin ;
and Paddy Ryan determined to seek his fortune
in England. He was a universal favourite in the
neighbourhood, and no sooner was his intention

THE abbot's kitchen. 205

promulgated, than there was a contribution set
on foot to fit him out for his expedition, in a
manner which would not disgrace ould Ireland.
John Oldis gave him a coat, Tom Wright a
pair of leathern breeches, and Father Fox a
shag waistcoat ; so that on the morning on
which he set out on his journey, with his bundle
slung over his shoulder on his shilelah, there
was not a claner, tighter-rigged, or handsomer
fellow, in all Tipperary.

** Good morning to ye, Pat," said Father
Dennis, the parish priest of Kilvemnon, as Ryan
met him on the skirts of the bog ; " it 's early ye
are on the road this blessed day, and with your
holyday clothes on too : what's the maning of
that, Pat, and no pattern or fair within a dozen
miles of ye?"

" O then ril be bail your reverence has not
heard that Judy's married, and Norah's gone
into sarvice at Mr. Despard's, at Killahy, and
that I'm going to sake my fortin the other side
of the water, and lave the potato piece between
the ould people and the pigs."
; " I always said ye were a good boy,*' was
the reply; "and when Father Rice, the friar,
«aid ye were going to the devil through the
Protestant church yonder, I told him, maybe,

SO0 TBB abbot's KITCHEN.

ye'd miss the way* A couple of tenp^oies,
Paty and an old man*8 blessing, will do ye no
harm* Keep a clone conscience, and say you
prayers, and never be ashamed of old Ireland,
whatever ye do, and it 's prosper ye will all the
world over. And harkye, Paddy Ryan, don*t be
lifting your hand too often to your head, whe^
ther ye've a shilelah, or a drop of the cratur
in it."

The first object which rivetted Ryan's atten-
tion on stepping out of the steam-boat, on the
English shore, was a recruiting party, the ser-
geant of which, attracted by the ^' thews and
sinews'' of the tall Hibernian, walked up, and
inquired if he would '' list."

" Is it list?" says Pat; " with all the pleasure
in life to any thing ye have to say, Mister Ser-
geant,"

*^ I mean," says the sergeant, '* will you serve
the king ?"

'< Bother 1 how will I do that?" inquired
Ryan.

'^ By fighting for him," answered he of the
halbert, endeavouring to slip a shilling into Pat's
fingers, which, however, the latter eluded, and,
catching the other's hand at the same time, gave
it a squeeze which not only brought the tears into

THX abbot's XITCHBN. 307

bis eyai, but left bis majesty's profile as plainly
impressed upon tbe sergeant's palm as it ever
was upon the coin of tbe realm.

^^ And wbat would I get by tbat/' continued
Ryan, " bat a broken bead ev^y day in the
week, and a bullet throu^ it, maybe, on
Sunday?"

" Why, you'd have a fine coat on your back,
money in your pocket, and would live like a
fighting cock.'*

" O then I would not wish to live like any
such quarrelsome baste,** was the reply ; " be-
sides I'm thinking it is not for nothing ye carry
that big cane in your fist, and that, if I made
a mistake on the right side, and put my musket
on the wrong shoulder, maybe, ye'd be rapping
my knuckles for it."

" O," says the sergeant, " that is a trifle !"

" That 's true, for ye," said Ryan ; " only,
maybe, I'd be after knocking ye down for that
same, and that 's death by the law; so good
morning to ye. Mister Sergeant. It 's a pity ye
were not bom a counsellor, for ye 've the deviPs
own tongue in yer mouth."

Ryan's first care was to find out a builder, to
whom he had a letter of introduction from a
friend, which, with a certificate of good conduct

308 THB abbot's KITCHEN.

from the curate of his pariah, procured him
initant employmeitt His master soon b^an
to find that Pat's qualifications were not con-
fined to carrying the hod, but that he could Ibj
a brick as straight as the best of them ; the re-
sults of which discovery were an advance of
wages and lighter occupation. One of Rjao'i
principal recommendations to the favour ofliis
employer was bis sobriety; for, although it
cannot be denied that he had a national par-
tiality for whisky, he loved it, as he was wool
sensibly to remark, too well to abuse it.

It happened that a gentleman, who, by the
death of his father, came into possession of
c<»isiderable property, conceived the idea of re-
storing part of a ruined abbey on one of his

THB abbot's kitchen. 209

estates, and converting it into an occasional re-
sidence. The employer of Ryan was fixed upon
to execute the requisite repairs, and Paddy was
accordingly despatched with a party of labour-
ers to the spot.

The majority of his companions made a vil-
lage in the neighbourhood their head-quarters,
but Ryan procured lodgings in a little cottage.
within a short distance of the abbey. Whether
he was induced to this step by the trim ap-
pearance of the cottage itself, by the climbing
rose and clematis which covered the front, or by
a pair of bright eyes and rosy cheeks which he
had accidentally seen peeping through the blos-
soms, I cannot take upon me to determine.

Paddy soon became a favourite in the family
with whom he had taken up his abode : he was
merry, good-natured, and obliging; sang very
passably^ — in a comic song, particularly, he was
irresistible ; and told a story with great humour
and effect. To these his qualifications maybe
added a more than ordinary share of native wit,
which enabled him to turn aside, or fling back
upon their authors, the rustic sarcasms which
his national peculiarities would occasionally pro-
voke.

Now touching this same abbey, to which allu-

210 TH£ ABBOT*8 KITCHEN.

sion has already been made, there was a tradi-
tion that a particular room, which had acquired,
I know not how, the appellation of the '' Abbot's
Kitchen/'* was haunted, and that the spirit of
the prior, at the head of a numerous retinae of
monks, noctumally, about the hour of twelve,
made a circuit of the apartment, which was,
doubtless, connected with some of the pleasing
recollections of their earthly sojourn.

In confirmation of this story, several most
yeracious persons, among the neighbouring cot-
tagers, asserted that they, at various times, and
at irregular intervals, observed, from a distance,
lights moving in the apartments in question ; but
whether the said lights proceeded from the tapers
of the peripatetic fathers, or were occasioned by
the presence of spirits which sought rather con-
cealment than publicity, it would not, with my
limited means of arriving at the truth, be safe to
hazard an opinion.

Scarcely, however, was the first square yard
of masonry raised upon the ruined towers, than
they became the scene of the most portentous

* There is an apartment bearing the same name, and
to which a similar tradition refers, in the magnificent
ruin of Netley Abbey, on the banks of the Southampton
Water.

THE abbot's kitchen. 213

and appalliDg apparitions. lights, which in
brilliancy and variety of colour would have rival-
ed the illuminations at VauxhaU, were seen flit-
ting from chamber to chamber; chains, which,
if an estimate of their ponderosity might be
formed from the sound produced, could never have
been lifted by mortal hands, clanked along the
corridors; and if, by chance, a luckless work-
man left any of his tools behind him at night,
the most fearful havoc was mide among them
before morning. Mattocks and pickaxes were
broken, barrows turned upside down, and their
wheels detached and sent rolling to the foot of
the acclivity on which the edifice waa raised.

The consternation which these sights and
sounds spread among the artificers employed in
the restoration of the building, caused a very
large proportion of them to abandon their tasks,
until, at last, the steward of the estate wrote to
inform the baronet, his master, that the works
were almost, at a stand-still, since only three
labourers could be found who would work upon
the premises.

Sir Charles, whose residence was but a few
miles distant, immediately on the receipt of the
letter, mounted his horse, with an intention of
investigating the matter, and was passing the

214 THE abbot's KITCHEK.

abbey, somewhat late in the eyeniag, when he
was surprised at hearing the noise of a trowel tA
an hour when, he supposed, the workmen would
hare oeased their labours. He glided his hone
up to that part of the building whence the soand
proceeded, and discorered our hero, Paddy RyaQ;
just on the point of finishing his task.

" You are late at work to-night, my friend,"
said the baronet.

" Your honouf may say that," was Paddy's
answer ; " but I was after putting the top brick
to a little job, which, maybe, if it rains in the
night, would be like a drowned kitten, — none
the better for the wetting.*'

** But are you not afraid," inquired Sir Charles,
'^ to remain by yourself, at so late an hour, in a
place which is currently reported to be haunted ?"
Afraid, is it, your honour?*' said Pat;

now, upon my word and conscience, I never
saw any thing yet, in the wide world, that Vd
half so much rason to be afraid of as myself."

'^ That speaks something for your courage,
my man, and more for your modesty," observed
the baronet. -^-

" Is it modesty ? Ot fam,'' ' TOya j^ an, " that^s
a plant which, they say, does not growWitti^ ™y
country, and that what there is of it is all amwg

THB abbot's KITCHEK. 215

the women ; but if it 's courage ye mane, though
rd father ate my potato in pace, any day, than
fight for it, it is not Paddy Ryan, I'm thinking,
would turn his back upon friend or foe."

" Then, Paddy," said gir Charles, " I take it
you are just the man I want ; I am very desirous
to get at the bottom of the mystery of these
strange noises and apparitions, which, after all,
I apprehend to have their origin in trickery.
Now what would you take to keep watch in the
Abbot's Kitchen to-morrow night ? "

" A pipe and a drop of whisky," said Ryan ;
" and, maybe, a shilelah, your honour."

" But I mean," continued the baronet, " what
sum of money would you consider a sufficient re-
ward for the duty ? "

'^ Is it the cash ? O then it shall never be said
that Pat Ryan could not take a pipe and a drop
of Marlfield,* without being paid for it."

" Well," remarked the baronet, " love ef
money does not appear to be among your faults,
at aiiy rate, my good fellow."

" That 's true, for your honour," replied Pat,
*' for the fact is, I never could keep a shilling
long^ enough in my pocket to get a liking for it."

* The name of a celebrated distillery near Clomnel.

216 THE abbot's KITCHBN*

'^ So !*' exclaimed Sir Charles ; '^ since there
is no coming to terms with you on any other
footing, perhaps you will keep the watch of
which I was speaking, as a mere matter of
favour to myself, who am, in fact^ the owner of
the estate."

" With all the pleasure in life," answered
Ryan, " and it 's mighty Httle I'd think of the
favour after all, your honour."

" Well," continued Sir Charles, as he rode off,
^* I shall take care that you are furnished with a
good supper, and a tumbler of punch, in the
Abbot's Kitchen, to-morrow evening; and you
shall be provided with a brace of pistols, in case
of accidents."

" Two tumblers, plase your honour," bellowed
Pat after the baronet; " two tumblers, — for,
maybe, the ghost would like a drop, and then
he'll tell all he knows about the matter, I'll
engage for him,"

A few hours before Ryan entered upon his
new office of ghost-catcher, he was sitting alone
in the cottage, when Rose Hazelgrove (his land-
lord's daughter) entered the room. She had
been unusually thoughtful the whole of the day ;
and, without replying to Paddy's salutation of
" Ah, Miss Rose, a cuishla, is that yourself?"

THE abbot's kitchen* 217

observed, in a somewhat reproachful tone, —
" And so, Mr. Ryan, you intend to go upon this
wild scheme of yours to-night ?"

" Arrah ! now/' says Pat, " what else would
I do? ye would not have me disappoint his
honour, would ye ?"

** No," answered the pretty damsel ; " but you
might get some one to watch with you — — *'

"O! then,** exclaimed Ryan, " don't ye
know it 's a maxim among ghosts, that two 's
company, and three 's none ? and sorrow a one of
them did ye ever hear of who appeared to more
than a single person at a time.**

" You don't think me silly enough, Mr.
Ryan,** said Rose, ** to believe in any such non-
itense: if you come to any mischief, it will be
from the living, and not the dead.*'

" And haven't I," observed Pat, ** a big shile-
lah, then, which never missed fire, and a strong
arm at the small end of it?"

*' But, consider, you are but one man,** was
the reply, " and only think, if they were to
murder you!**

" Why, then. Miss Rose, agrahT said the
Irishman, with a slight touch of the tender in
his voice, '^ I should die a stranger in a land of

L

218 THE ABBOTTS XITCH£N.

strangerSy and there would be none to weep for,
or to wake me !"

'M am sure/' exclaimed Rose^ ** twisting up
the corner of her apron, and turning aside to
wipe away the tear which had gathered in her
eye, '* I am sure it 's very unkind of you to say
so, Mr. Ryan, for "

*' O ! then," said Paddy, ** don't be spoiling
your praskeen* in that way, a lanna machree;
I'll dance at your wedding yet.''

** My wedding, Mr. Ryan ! " replied the dam-
sel, '* I don't understand "

" Ah, Rose, Rose," said Pat, ** upon my con-
science it 's a cute girl ye are. Maybe I didn't
see ye, the other night, walking through the
park with Mr. Nibblepen, his honour's steward ?"

" You know," exclaimed Rose, rather sharply,
'' that he would walk home with me ; you
don't think I would have that disagreeable
old "

" Never say the word, honey," cried Pat, in-
terrupting her ; '' I never saw him so agreeable
before, for he- looked in your face like a cat at
a bowl of cream ; and if he'd the misfortune to

• Apron.

THE abbot's kitchen. 221

be born twenty years before ye, sure wasn't it
your fault for coming into the wOrld so long after
him ? But who is that walking across the mea-
dow ? Dry up your tears, Rose, that 's a darling
now."

" Are they all oflf now?" inquired Rose, as
she passed her apron over her face.

" No/' says Pat, " there *s one on your cheek
yet ; — wait while I brush it oflf "

" O fie! Mr. Ryan," said Rose.

" Lips were made before pocket-handkerchiefs>
my darling," exclaimed Ryan, as he hurried out
of the house to keep his appointment.

Ryan had no vocation for fighting, nor was
he, like his countrymen in our illustration, and
some who cannot plead the excuse of ignorance,
a promoter of brawls among others ; yet he pos-
sessed a determined courage, united to coolness
and presence of mind, which peculiarly adapted
him for the task he had undertaken.

On arriving at the Abbot's Kitchen, he found
every thing but the ghost prepared for his recep-
tion. There was a table on which was placed a
round of beef, a case bottle of whisky, and tum-
blers, tobacco pipes, and pistols in pairs.

It was at an advanced period of the autumn,
and the evening was tempestuous. The wind

i

222 THE abbot's KITCHEN.

swept fitfully around the antiquated buildiog,

moaning through its unglazed and tenantless

chambers and long corridors, and Paddy had

reason to congratulate himself, that while bis

other wants had been so carefully anticipated, a

blazing wood fire, and a plentiful supply of fuel

wherewith to renovate it, had been provided.

Having finished his repast, he drew the table

nearer to the fire^ brewed himself a stiff tumbler

of whisky punch, lighted his pipe, and made up

his mind to be comfortable. Between the puffs,

he amused himself by singing snatches of a ditty,

to the tune of Nora Creinay the burden of which

was

'^ Rose, my life,

Pat Ryan*8 wife.

His joy and pride ye'll be, my darling.*^

It was towards midnight that he was chant-
ing the stanza which thus embodied his connubial
anticipations, when, as if in reproof of his pre-
sumption, a hollow and deep voice, apparently
proceeding from the vault beneath the chamber,
exclaimed " Never ! ! !"

" O ! then," cried Pat, " if I did not know
that I am in England, I would swear that that
was one of my own country echoes." His specu-
lations, however, upon the subject, were soon in-

THB ABBOt's KITCHKK- 223

terrupted by the clanking of chains through the
passage leading to the ap^tment, the Abbot's
Kitchen, in which Ryan was stationed. Sud-
denly the sounds ceased, and, in a few seconds
after, he heard three distinct knocks at the
door.

" It 's the ghost of a gentleman, any how,'*
says Pat, " by his double knock. Walk in,*' he
added, " whoever ye are, for it isn't a night to
be standing on the wrong side of a door.**

. Another pause of a few seconds ensued, when
the door slowly opened, and discovered a tall
figure, enveloped in a white robe, which left only
its features visible, and these were pale, ghastly,
and cadaverous.

Ryan was somewhat startled by the apparition ;
but soon regaining his natural hardihood, he ad-
dressed it by saying — ** It 's a cold country ye
come from, Fn^ thinking, by the light dress ye*ve
on; maybe ye'd like a tumbler of punch after
your walk ; if so, never say the word twice, but
help yourself.**

Tlie figure shook its head slowly and so-
lemnly, in token of its rejection of Ryan's hos-
pitable invitation. " Then what 's the maning"
inquired the latter, " of your disturbing a dacent
man over his whisky, at this time of night ? **

224 THE abbot's XFTCHEIT.

Obtainbg no answer, he continued, ** Ifye'M
neither gpcJie nor drink, maybe ye'd be taking
yourself off, and lave me to finish that bottle of
Marlfield by myself, in pace ?**

The apparition, so far from taking Paddy's
hint, advanced a pace or two into the room,
when Ryan, snatching up one of the pistols,
exclaimed, " Advance another step, and, dead or
alive, ril shoot ye." The figure came forward, in
spite of the warning, and Pat, at the distance of
about ten feet, took a deliberate aim, and fired.

His visitor remained motionless, and without
betraying any symptoms of being injured, or
even disconcerted, by Paddy's salute ; but, after
a pause, it slowly raised its hand to its mouth,
and taking thence a bullet, exhibited it to Ryan
with something like an air of triumph.

" O ! then, it 's a big lie ye're telling," said Pat,
'' for sorrow a shot was there in either pistol;
more by token, I took the liberty of peeping into
them myself; but, as ye seem to have supped
upon bullets, maybe ye 'd like a pistol for break-
fast, so open your mouth for a big swallow ;''
and, as he spoke, Ryan launched the recently-
discharged weapon, with such force and precision,
at the head of the intruder, as to bring him
instantly upon his knees. Recovering himself,

THB abbot's KttCHBN. 225

•

however y before Paddy could lay hold of him,
the stranger gained the portal of the building,
and, disappearing in the gloom of the surround-
ing forest, efifectually baffled pursuit.

So anxious was Sir Charles to ascertain the
result of his scheme, that he was at the abbey,
on the following morning, at sunrise. On enter-
ing the Abbot's Kitchen, he was surprised and
alarmed on finding his watchman stretched, at
full length, upon the ground, and, beside him, a
pistol which had evidently been discharged. His
exclamation, however, had the effect of relieving
him from his apprehensions ; for Ryan, awakened
by the sound, started instantly on his feet, and,
in reply to the baronet's eager inquiries, related
the adventures of the night.

" One thing is quite evident,** said Sir Charles,
when Pat had finished his story, ** that the in-
truder is no ghost, and I am much obliged to
you for your services in ascertaining the fact ; but
it would have been very satisfactory if we could
have fixed on the author of the^ imposture/'

" Will your honour tell me," says Ryan,
** who charged the pistols?"

My steward," was the answer.

And who brought them here ?*' pursued Pat.

" Nibblepen himself," s^id th^ baronet^ " and

l2

226 THB abbot's KITCHEN.

deposited them on the table in my presence,
where they remained untouched till you came ;
for, as you entered the kitchen by one door, we
quitted it by the other."

" Then," says Pat, " Til bet a gallon of
whisky to a potato-paring, that if Mr. Nibblepen
didn't play the ghost, it 's himself can tell your
honour who did."

'' Impossible!" exclaimed Sir Charles; <' the
supposition is preposterous."

" Maybe your honour's right, and it's not
for the likes of me to be saying ye're not,"
replied Ryan, respectfully; " but does your
honour think the ghost would have stood fire
at three paces, if he hadn't known, right well,
that there was no ball in the pistol ?"

** There is something in that, Ryan," said the
baronet ; " but I cannot bring myself to believe
that Nibblepen would be guilty of such base
chicanery."

" If it was Mr. Nibblepen himself," continued
Pat, '' Tm thinking he has not rubbed out the
mark I made upon his thick skull with the but-
end of that same pistol. Maybe your honour
would just call and ask after his health this morn-
ing ; and if ye don't find him with his head in a
sling, my name 's not Pat Ryan."

THE ABBOT S KITCHEN. 227

The result of Sir Charles's visit proved the
accuracy of Ryan's guess at the author of the
imposture ; and the steward ultimately confessed
that his object in practising it was to deter the
baronet from making tlie abbey a place of resi-
dence, inasmuch as bis presence would interfere
with some of Nibblepen's projects, which, it was
presumed, had a more direct reference to his
own proper interests than to those of bis master.

The steward was immediately dismissed from
his office, and Paddy Ryan was married, the next
week, to Rose Hazelgrove, and is, at this mo-
ment, living rent-free upon the baronet's estate,
in a pretty cottage, surrounded by a few acres
of land, by the cultivation of which, and his
professional labours, he la said to be making
a fortune.

REFORM.

We've often thought, and p*rhaps *twill strike
The reader, the Reform Bill 's like

Our subject-plate, a waggon ;
The fore-horse in the team *s a Grey,
And, though they're working night and day,

But heavily they drag on.

For our own parts, we never mix
In state or civic politics.

Yet wish " the Bill " may be a
Most sov' reign cure for England's ills.
And prove, like Abemethy's pills,

A perfect panacea.

We boast no legislative powers,
But leave to wiser heads than ours

The labours for which we
Have no vocation, while we say,
Cut every rotten branch away«

But do not harm the tree.

COLOSSOS 0» HBOPM-

R£FOEM« 231

Without pronouncing on " the Bill,"
In praise or censure, there are still

Some things we can't help noting ;
For instance, those who t'other day
Got ten pounds for their vote, will pay

Ten pounds a-year for voting.

In many a wight, whose crippled toe
On cushion rests, " the Bill " will blow

Up hope's expiring embers ;
He'll soon discard his gouty shoes,
Bless'd with the liberty to choose

Another set of members.

The poor especially, 'tis said.

Expect " the Bill" will cheapen bread —

We rather doubt it ; still
Some reason in the hope we see,
They've heard so much concerning the

Provisions of " the Bill."

And, should it pass into a law,
Such wonders as the world ne'er saw

'Twill bring about, we trow ;
Since it has clauses which propose,
We're told, to give a voice to those

Who have no voices now.

232 KEFORH.

Thus Birmiogfaam, for deeds io arms
So famedy though safe from war*8 alarms,

Will profit by the plan ;
While Manchester, of high renown.
Will send two members up to town

By Pickford*8 caravan.

And ShefiSeld too, that shines in steel,
Its benefits will surely feel

Through all its various trades ;
It needs no second sight to see
Its representatives will be

Two keen, well-temper'd blades.

Nay, in the " Commons' House," a few
Would have the colonies vote too ; —

How strange 'twould be, some day.
When Parliament for bus'ness meets,
To see two members take their seats,

Returned from Botany Bay !

'Tis more than probable " the Bill "
Will oust a few old members ; still

There must be some who never
Can care about a seat, since they
Would be, could they but have their way.

Upon their legs for ever.

Our song is sung; — if aak'd to own
Our party, we would answer — none —

Whig, Radical, or Tory ;
We rank ourselves among the friends
Of those who, scorning private ends,
Seek England's weal and glory.

MORE COPY !

If there be two words ia the English language
for which we entertain a pre-eminent dislike, it
is for those which we have placed at the head
of this article — " More Copy." Reader, if thou
be the editor of a newspaper or a magazine,
and have all the articles to write thyself, thou
wilt fully comprehend the awful import of those
magic words ; but if thou have not the felicity
of officiating in either of those capacities, it may
behove us to explain to thee that " copy*' is
the disparaging term by which printers are wont
to designate our most original lucubrations.

We remember to have read — we know not
precisely where, but suspect that the fact was
elicited by an examination before a committee of
the House of Commons — that there are many
thousands in this metropolis who rise in the
morning without knowing where they shall lay
their heads at night; which we can the more
readily believe, since we can quote two cases
in point. One refers to a gentleman, learned in

EUBAEEATION.

MOEE COPT. 237

the law — and, we infer, from his vagarious pro-
pensities, a bachelor — who repaired to an inn,
one fine morning in the vacation, with the inten-^
tion of going to Southampton, but found that
the coach was full. ** And pray," inquired he,
pointing to a stage at the other end of the yard,
•* where is that going to?" "To Northampton,"
was the reply. " Ah, well," continued the learn-
ed gentleman, " put my portmanteau into the
boot ; Northanipton or Southampton — 'tis all
the same ; " and to Northampton he went. The
other instance is of recent occurrence, and in-
volves a portion of our own history, in relating
which we have adopted the editorial plural, in
order that we may not subject ourselves to a
charge of egotism.

We had, for some week^, been flogging our
wits in a race against a couple of printing-
presses, in the course of which period the dread-
ed demand for " more copy" had been reiterated
in our ears from the mouths of a brace of
printers' devils, usque ad nauseam. We were
enabled, however, to feed the voracious cor-
morants who beset us, until last Monday at noon,
when we were *' run to a stand-still."

Two emissaries, one from Mr, Moyes, and the
other from Mr. Davison — whom Elizabeth, our

338 MORB COPT.

comely but careless waiting-maid, had incai-
tiously admitted, (maugre our repeated injune-
tioQS that she would commune with all sttS(H-
cious-rlooking persons from the window,) were
bawling " More copy !'' in concert in the holl, if
such it can be termed, of our humble domicile.
Alas ! we had none to give them, — for, although
we had taken a composing draught in the mom-
ing, not a line had we indited.

Meanwhile our two assailants, who had re-
ceived strict orders to wait until their demands
were satisfied, kept their posts with the perti-
nacity of experienced bailiffs. There was no-
thing left for us but flight. Accordingly, we
made a sudden sally into the passage, and
rushing by our besiegers, gained the street.
They, however, not being disposed thus to lose
sight of their prey, followed us at full speed,
and had well nigh overtaken us, when we flung
ourselves on the top of a four-horse coach, and
soon left pur pursuers far behind. Unluckily,
a stoppage occurred in the narrow part of the
Borough (for our home is on the Surrey side of
the Thames), and the Sydenham stage became
as stationary as that of Covent Grarden or Drury
Lane.

After waiting for twenty minutes, a cry of

MORE COPY- 239

^ More copy !" broke faintly upon our ears ; and
casting an anxious glance behind, we perceived
our indefatigable foes within a hundred yards of
us. We made our exit from the stage, and
taking again to our heels, dived down St. Tho*
mas's Street, where we had the misfortune, in
our haste, to overturn the stall of a nymph who
retailed apples. The damsel, in quest of re-
venge or reparation, added to the number of our
pursuers, when, bethinking ourselves of the stra*
tagem of Hippomenes, we dropped half-a-crown
in the path of our Atalanta, which she stooped to
pick up, and thus, happily for us, losing ground,
allowed us to escape from her vengeance.

With unabated speed we continued our course
through the terra incognita of Tooley Street,
until we found ourselves again on the high road
to the city. We paused for a moment as to our
route ; but a " far-off cry" of" More copy !" set our
legs again in motion ; we darted over the bridge,
without respect to the limbs of the lieges whom
we encountered on our way, and, after plunging
into a knot of fisbwomen and porters, who had
congregated at the top of Lower Thames Street,
we turned down the avenue to the first wharf,
and precipitated ourselves into a steam -boat,

240 MORE COPY.

which was, at that instant, moving from th6
shore to the tune of " Fly not yet."

The hurriad manner in which we flung our-
selves upon the deck of the steamer, as well as
the look of terror and apprehen^on which we
cast over our shoulder at the same instant, gave
rise to much speculation on the part of our
fellow-voyagers, which, however, when we ven-
tured an inquiry as to the destination of the
vessel, resolved itself into an unanimous opinion
not, by any means, favourable to the sanity of
our intellects.

To our question we, at last, received from a
gentleman, more obliging or less apprehensive
than the rest, the ominous answer of ^' Crraves-
end** a place which corresponded with our idea
of the Cave of Despair, inasmuch as our topogra-
phical lore informed us that it was considerably
below the Lower Hope,

. The impression that, if we had not escaped
from some receptacle for lunatics, public or pri-
vate, we had every qualification to insure our
admission to one, having become general among
the passengers, our perilous vicinity was avoided
by them all, as if we had been infected by tiie
plague or the Indian cholera; and we had,

MOBB COPY. 241

eonsequently, one side of the' quarter-deck to
Ourselves.

As we drew towards the destination of the
vessel, we perceived the captain in earnest con-
versation with some of the voyagers, which, from
certain glances towards us, and* the words ** poor
gentleman/' ** magistrates," ** do himself a mis-
chief,';* tfaut reached our ears, we concluded
boded ill to our liberty. Accordingly, when a
boat came alongside for the purpose of landing
some passengers at Northfleet, we seized an op-
portunity of jumping into her, and, after some
remonstrance on the part of the company into
which we had intruded, were rowed to the shore,
where we landed, and took' up our quarters at a
small inn by the water's edge.
: There, as the reader will readily imagine, our
contemplations were gloomy enough: the sight
of the Essex shore, bare, bleak, and flat as it is,
is calculated to give a man the horrors, under
any circumstances ; but we had the superadded
misery of feeling that we had committed an act
of literary bankruptcy, while the anguish of
knowing that our name would be in the next
Saturday's (Literary) Gazette, was not, in any
degree, mitigated by the reflection of our having

M

242 MOEE COPT.

appeared m it before. We thought, also, of the
home and the friends we had left, never to see
them again. We thought, too, of our club, the
L. F. C, and that we should never more listen
to the puns of our friend • ♦ ♦ ♦, the eloquence
of * * * *, or the dry humour of * * * * ; and^
above all, we thought of the three pounds, being
our subscription paid in advance, for which,
banished tnan as we were, we should never " re-
ceive value*' either in wit or wine.

We went to bed supperless, — that is to say,
we had only one solitary beef-steak and a bottle
of double stout; — but we will not attempt a
description of the horrors of that night. Pe-
gasus, who had denied us his aid in the day-
time, visited us in the shape of the night-mare ;
and we felt as though forty printing-presses had
been piled upon our chest. Then we were
buffeting the waves of the Styx (which we
thought was a river of printer's lye), with one of
our volumes hanging about our neck like a pig
of lead. At last, however, we were aroused from
the fearful vision by the imaginary cry of " More
copy !" from a chorus of printer's devils.

On coming down to our breakfast, fresh ter-
rors awaited us, for, on taking up the ** Times,"

MORE COPY*. 243

which our laodlotd had obligingly placed on the
table, the first thing which met our eye was an
advertisement, headed *^ absconded from his
EMPLOYERS," Containing a description of our
person, and offering a reward for the discovery
of our retreat.

Now, we apprehend that a man's vajaity, in
contemplating his own portrait, is never kss
flattered than when he recognises it in an ad-
vertisement or a caricature ; nor can we say that
we were especially delighted with the sketch of
our outward conformation in the " Times." It
is true, we did not acknowledge the fidelity of
the artist in some of its details, inasmuch as our
tendency to growing stout had been libellously
exaggerated into corpulency ; while our practice
of directing our eyes towards the earth, partly
occasioned by our natural modesty, and partly
superinduced by our contemplative habits, had
been, with an equal disregard of decency and
truth, denominated a " down look."

Still, however, there was a general resem-
blance, which was calculated to excite our worst
fiears. Accordingly, abandoning our untasted tea
to the landlady's cat and dog, which had taken
advantage of our abstraction and leaped upon
the table, we paid our reckoning at the bar, and

HOSE COPY.-

rushed out of the honae, deterarined to double,
like the bare, and return to our form.

We therefore hastened to the pier, aod took
our passage in a steam-boat, having previously
ascertained that it was not the vessel in which
we had left London. Happily, we could discover
no symptoms of our being recogDised, and we
began to.bi«athe again ; nay, we even rose so far
superior to onr eoitows, as to eng^e in " con-
verse sweet" with a young lady, whose very
lovely, but rather pensive countenance, will often
mingle in our dreams of the blight and the
beautiful. Haply, riioiUd our volume meet her

MOBS COPT. 245

eye, — aiid we have a pt^esentimefit that it will,— -
this page will reinind her of. one who listened
with no ordinary degree of interest to her enthu-
siastic eulogium on the scenery of the Tamar.

Whether the fair damsel and her friend
laughed at us, or at our attempts to be facetious,
we know not, nor need we, perhaps, care ; but
certain it is our voyage was a merry one, and,
to our apprehension at least, marvellously short.
Short, also, was the duration of our felicity ; for
we had no sooner put our foot on shore, than
we were laid hold of by two attaches of the city
police, to whom some well-intentioned person,
having been in our company when ** outward-
bound," had given a hint of the propriety of our
being " put under restraint."

The two officials were the most polite men in
the world, and, on our inquiring their pleasure, or
rather their business with us, replied that Alder-
man****** would be glsid of our com-
pany for a few minutes.

We, of course, expressed our9elves overwhelm-
ed by the honour of the alderman's notice ; but
added, that we had not the advantage pf his
acquaintance. Our objection, however, was
overruled by their kindly offering to introduce
us, and they became sq very pressing i^ their

attentions, Uiat we felt ouraeWes compelled to
accompany Ihem, Indeed, it would have beeo
the extreme of fastidiousnesB had we shewn any
reluctance to walk between two such well-dressed
gentlemen, particularly vhen we contrasted their
appearance with that of their predecessors of
the staff and lantern, who, in days, or rather
nigkts of yore, were wont to give the plundered
housekeeper timely notice of the escape of the
thieves.

conducted to Guildhall, and, after

MORE COPT, 249

some important eases had been disposed of, in,
which the zeal and gallantry of that meritorious
officer the beadle, in routing oyster-women and
orange-boys, were especially conspicuous, we
were introduced to the sitting alderman.

We shall take the liberty of extracting from
the " Police Report^ of one of the morning
papers, the particulars of the scene which fol-
lowed, rather than hazard our reputation for
impartiality by attempting to describe it our-
selves.

^^ Guildhall. — » Yesterday a respectably-
dressed, person was brought before the sitting
alderman on suspicion' of having escaped from
a lunatic asylum. It appeared in evidence, that
he had embarked in a Gravesend steam-boat, in
a manner which left no doubt of his having been
pursued ; that, when on board, he asked some
strange and incoherent questions, and had
jumped into a boat which came off from North-
fleet, where he landed, to the great relief of the
captain and passengers. It also appeared that
he returned to London on the following morning,
and, having been recognised by a gentleman who
had been his fellow- voyager on the preceding
day, was given into custody.

" ' Well sir,' inquired the alderman, * what is
your name V

M 2

2y> IfOftB COFY«

. ***^ I have not yet be^ able to get a name/
answered the prisoner.

<' * What!' exclaimed the magiatrate, * mot got
a name ? that *s yery odd/

'* * It is yery unfortunate^' was the reply,/ par-
ticularly as I have spent half my life in endea-
vouring to acquire one/

. ** < Well, what is your business, — how do you
get your living ? ' said the alderman.

'< Vl have been in the public lincy responded
the prisoner.

'' ' Ha ! indeed ] ' rejoined the magistrate.
* Pray what is the sign of your house ? '

" * The Flying Horse/ was the answer.

** * The Flying Horse ! there are many such
signs in London; pray where is it?' said his
worship.

'* * On Mount Parnassus/ replied the prisoner.

<' ' Mount Parnassus ! ' exclaimed the alder-
man ; ' I never knew there was such a place.
There *s Mount Street ; and Mount Place, and
Mount Pleasant, but I never heard of Mount
Parnassus. It must be in some obscure part of
the metropolis, I suppose.'

" * Your worship/ observed the prisoner,, * it
would appear, has not cultivated a very intimate
acquaintance with the muses/

^' ^ The mewses!' returned the magistrate;

' all I know of the mewses is, thai there is one
at the back of my house, where I keep my
coach - horses. Sure enough/ he continued,
placing his finger symbolically pn his own fore-
head, ^ there is something wanting here.* [A
laugh, in which the worthy alderman, delighted
at the success of his own sally, heartily joined.]
* Now tell me, honestly, my good man, have you
not recently escaped from some place of con-
finement V

^/ The prisoner said, he could not but acknow-
ledge that he had run away from his keepers,
who, he added, were two respectable publishers,
one residing in the Strand, and the other in the
City.

*' * Poor man !' exclaimed his worship, whom,
as well as every one present, this last reply had
convinced that the unhappy prisoner's wits were
disordered, * let him be removed, and taken care
of until his friends can be discovered. And,
d'ye hear, see that he is treated with all possible
kindness, and that he has every attention which
his unfortunate situation demands.' "

Remonstrance on our part would, of course,
have been in vain ; for who could expect that
justice would be measured out by the city magis-
trates, who had peremptorily refused to admit
Scales into their court?

S53 MOEE COPY-

As ve vera led through the street, however,
by the two police-men, on our way to a place of
lecurity, we eacountered the two printers' devili,
who, having been hunting in couple for us ever
since we had escaped from their clutches,
pounced on ub with the eagerness of hungry
vultures, maugre the resistance of our guardians.
A scuffle ensued, during which we contrived to
run off; and, as we tamed the corner of the
street in our flight, had the gratification to per-
ceive that our two enemies, the printers' emis-
saries, had been overpowered by the police, who
were dragging them to the Compter for obstruct-
ing officers in the execution of their duty.

Meanwhile we gained our domicile, and, by
the time our persecutors were released from
durance vile, were prepared with the requisite
supply of " More copy."

LOVE IN THE EAST.

Will Wallsekd was a coal-heaver,
And would you know what *^ mould

Of man" he was, — just glance aside, —
His portraiture behold.

<' Tani mieux!** our artist makes him say ;
" But where did Will acquire
His French ?" you'll ask :• He only means
To say V an't Meux* Entire.

Contented long^ he lived, nOr did

For any earthly thing wish,
And knew no flame but what a pot

Of porter could extinguish. .

Till Love resolved to wound his peaice ;

Nor could the rogue desire
Much better pastime than tO set

A man of coals on fire.

He loved fair Martha Marrowfat,
An oyster-nyn^ph : in that he

Display'd his taste ; the nicest thing
In life 's an oyster Patty.

(

356 LOVE IN THE EAST-

Loud ID the praise of Patty's charms,
He vow'd that none could beat hers ;

And, doubtless, song them oft in verse,
For he was used to meters*

But Martha tam*d a listless ear
When Will his passion told ;

Her heart, like one of her own fish.
Was close shut up and cold.

Nay, at his head an oyster-shell
She flung to stigmatise him ;

How cruel, yet how classical,
*Twas thus to ostrafiise him !

Full oft, at evening, in a barge
Of coals was Wallsend found,

And heard to sigh, as well he might,
For all was bkuik around.

"Ah, cruel maid!" he cries, as down
His cheek the big tear rolls ;

" I seem to hear thy chiding voice, —
It calls me o'er the coals.

<< The flame of love makes in this breast
Of mine a precious rout ;
I do not care, I'm sure, how soon
Its tenant is burnt out,'*

LOTB ly THK EAST.

There lived near Will one SMtaon Strop,

A barber aod wig-maker,
Whose razoT, in his time, had mown

Of chin ai least an acre.

His daughter Snsan Strop, or Sue,
As he was wont to dub her.

He dearly loved, and, next to her.
His erenug pipe and rubber.

258 LOVE Ua THE EAST>

Supplied with Newgate t^aleodars,
And tatter*d tomes in plenty.

His shop was quite a lounge for all
The Wapping cognoscenti.

There cobblers^ waxing warm, condemn'd
The waste of England's treasures ;

Sail-makers canvasid statesmen's acts.
And tailors blamed their measures.

While Strop's sagacity was held

In such esteem, that he
Was named, on all disputed points,

Their common referee.

In fact, so great an oracle

Was Simon, 'tis reported.
His neighbours, when in trouble^ all

To his ad?ice resorted.

Thus, through the funnel of his ear
They pour'd their various woes ; —

His looks invited trust, he 'd such
A confidential nose.

It chanced ('twas on a Saturday)
Will call'd, with heavy heart.

On Simon Strop, to claim a cast
Of his tonsorial art.

LOVE IN THE EAST. 261

Observing that his frieiid was pale

And dull, and wiped his eye so,
Old Strop exclaim'd, ** Why, I say, Bill,

My boy, what makes you sigh so V*

Then Will, ** upon that hint," produced

The budget of his sorrows.
And told them with that eloquence

Which truth from feeling borrows.

And when his tale he*d finished, " Strop,"
Said he, " what shall I do ?"
" Dor' echo'd Strop, " Til tell you what —
Suppose you marry Sue ?

" I want some honest man to take
The girl beneath his wing ;
I'm growing old : what say you, Bill ?
ril do the handsome thing.

"I'll buy or build you a new barge,

The Thames shan't bear a tighter, man ;
So heave your troubles overboard.
My blade, and be a lighter-mdin.

" Come, wash your hands of coal-heaving, —
I know you hate your place, —
And, while your hand is in, 'twould be
As well to wash your face."

(

^ii

THE BROTHERS.

Sampson Hard acre had the good fortune to
come into the world before his three brothers, an
occurrence which constituted him the heir of an

•

entailed estate of three thousand a-year. As old
Mr. Hardacre lived up to e?ery shilling of his
rent-roll, his sec<md and third sons, despairing of
a provision from his purse, wisely addressed them-
selves to the pockets of the world at large, and
respectively embraced the professions of law and
physic. Valentine, the youngest, however, who
enjoyed a small annuity under the will of his god-
father, preferred rural retirement to the bustle
of public life, and remained at home.

Sampson was a thick-set young man, with a
frame and constitution of iron, and a countenance
indicative rather of health than intelligence. It
was distinguished by a somewhat porcine elonga-
tion of nose, and a pair of eyes nearly buried be-
tween his round ruddy cheeks and beetle brows.
His skull would have puzzled a craniologist as
much as it did his schoolmaster, since it had
all the bumps that were ever numbered on Mr.

N

MS THE BKOTHBRS.

Deville'B caaU. Thus it happened, that while the
various faculties which, according to the system
of Messieurs Gall and Spurzheim, had " local
habitations" in his cranium, if properly distri-
buted, would have conducted half-a-dozen poets,
rantberoaticiani, and philosophers, to the pin-
nacle of fame, the result of the combinatioD, in
his case, was the most " admired confusion" of
intellect.

Let it not, however, be imagined that he was
destitute of accomplishments — for he had many.
He was the keenest hunter, the boldest rider,
and the best shot in the county, and was espe-
cially skilled in the mysteries of whist and back-
gammon.

An estate adjoining the Hardacres', and of
about the same extent and value, belonged to an

THE BROTHERS. 269

orphan, a Miss Mausell, just emerging from her
minority, between whom and Sampson, the guar-
dian of the former, and the father of the latter
had projected a match. The young lady's per-
sonal attractions were of the highest order; she
had the eye of a houri and the form of a sylph ;
but Sampson cared little for any eye but an eye
of pheasants, and was more interested in the
form of a hare than he would have been in that
of the Venus de Medicis herself. The estate,
however, was not a matter of so much indiffer-
ence to him ; and he, accordingly, devoted to the
preliminaries of courtship as much time as he
could spare from the more important concerns of
the stable and the dog-kennel.

Valentine was rather taller and of a much
slighter figure than his eldest brother, but with-
out the latter's " strongly-marked countenance/'
as persons are wont to say when they would
describe an ugly man without calling him
such. Valentine had, moreover, a sedateness
of look, which, but for a certain expression of
humour in his eye, might have been attributed
to melancholy.

His mare. Sobersides^ rivalled her master in
sobriety of demeanour, and there existed the best
possible understanding between them : he never

TBB BKOTBBtlS-

caring to ride fiMt, while she had not the iligbteit
objection to going slowly.

I am not aware that Sobenides erer did
homage to Trivia aftei the fashioo of the steed
in our vignette ; bnt she carried her head much
nearer to the ground than was considered ortho-
dox, and was, to use the langoage of Tattersall's,
a "queer one to look at;" in fact, both horse and
rider were the laughing- stocks of all the sports-
men in the vicinity.

It chanced that Sampson, at a dinner-party at
Hardacre Hall, had offered to run a favourite
horse against that of any of the company. Hii

THE BROTHEBS. 27|

challenge was accepted by a gentleman, who
jocularly added, that, should he not be at the
starting-post at the hour fixed, Valentine should
mount Sobersides, and ride the race instead. To
this proposal the latter, elevated possibly beyond
his ordinary sedateness, or relying on the other's
punctuality, s^eed ; stipulating, however, for a
share in the profit or loss of the contest.

A large party, among whom was Miss Mansell,
assembled in Hardacre Park, where the wager
was to be decided, on the day appointed. Samp-
son was at his post, of course, but his rival did
not make his appearance. At last, the hour of
starting arrived, and Valentine, who had not
thought of the wager since it was laid, was called
upon to " play or pay."

** Well !" exclaimed Valentine, ** since it may
be no better, bring out Sobersides ; we will have
a galley for our money, at any rate.''

The mare was accordingly brought out, amid
the laughter of the whole company, while her
master, after passing his hand carelessly under
the saddle-girths, flung himself across her back,
unprovided with either whip or spur. His im-
prudence in the latter particular was respectfully,
though vainly, remonstrated against by one of
the grooms, for Valentine was a general favourite

TBB IKOTHBRS.

tmoBg^ the MiranU, from the major domo dovn
to tiie Itnndrj maid.

" Good bje, brother," said SampBon, tatint-
iogly, as he left the starting-post at ao easy trot,
while Sobersides followed, and appeared quite
content with keeping a yard or two in the wake
of her rival.

At length, when about midway between the .
starting-post and the goal, Sampson gave the
rein and the spur to his horae, and rushed forward
at full speed. ValenUne was observed, almost
at the same instant, to pat the neck of Sober-

THE BBOTHBKS. 273

sides, who, on a sudden, appeared to gather her
legs under her, and darting away with the swift-
ness of an arrow ^ in two minutes left her antago-
nist at a hopeless distance.

Valentine arrived at the goal amid the plaudits
of the spectators, who, however they may sympa-
thise with the loser, have always a shout for the
winning party.

Sampson, more annoyed at his defeat than at
the loss of the money, though he grudged every
shilling of it, consoled himself by reflecting that
his marriage with Miss Mansell, which, the
young lady having attained her majority, was
fixed to take place in a few days, would put him
in possession of a fine estate, and a round sum of
money into the bargain.

On the appointed morning, Sampson pro-
ceeded with his friends to the church, where,
however, having been delayed by the operation
of worming some puppies, he arrived a quarter of
an hour after he had agreed to meet the bride
and her party.

<' I hope I have not kept Miss Mansell wait-
ing,'* exclaimed Sampson to Michael the parish-
clerk, who was engaged in oiling the lock of the
church-door.

" Oh, no. Sir,*' replied Michael ; " she be come
and gone this half hour.*'

274 THE BBOTHBKS.

" Come and gone !" echoed Sampaon, " 1 can't

understaod "

" Very likely," answered the other, " but gfae
be married though, as sure as a gun,"

" Married!" was the rejoinder, " to whom?"
" Why, to Master Valentine, to be sure,"
" Jockied again, by Jupiter!" exclaimed the
crest-fallen Sampson, as he quitted the church-
yard with his astonished friends.

The fact was, that during a visit which Miss
Mansell made to Mrs. Hardacre, the duty of
amusing the fair one, owing to the multitude
of Sampson's sporting engagements, devolved
upon Valentine, who acquitted himself bo much
to her satisfaction, that she preferred his undi-
vided affection to a rivalship with horses and
hounds iu the heart of his brother.

POSTSCRIPT.

See, ranged along the banks of yonder stream,
Those grave professors of the line and reel, —
Young, old, fat, slender, vulgar, and genteel, —
Angling for minnow, gudgeon, barbel, bream,
Trout, or some other of the " finny tribe."

Mark with what eager eyes, and yet how still,
They watch their floats, as if, like some poor scribe,

Their very lives depended on their quill.
True picture of the world ! where, to the last.
All men are Izaac Waltons, more or less,
Although not always with the like success ;
Ourselves among the rest, — and here we cast
Our volume as a bait for public favour,
And humbly hope that they'll approve its flavour :
Meanwhile, we're pretty certain of a bite,

For there 's a race which every day increases,
(Especially the small fry), critics hight,
Confound them! but they tear one's lines to
pieces;

Well, 'tis no joke to write, with aid from none,
An Annual, from title- ps^e to finis;

" Add if," you'll wiy, " 'twere mch » one »
(hine is,
T will be no yA* to read it when 'tis done,"
Call, if you ple«ge, onr Pegasus an asa.
Our Helicon a dncb-pond ; let it p&SR :

Yet don't diunisc our volume until after
You've read, air,

AN APOLOGY FOH LAUGHTER.

We know that there are gome welUmeauing folk,
(Their motives we impugn not, thoi^;b we find
Their dogmas not, at all times, to our inind,)
Who, in dteii gravity, esteem a joke
A thing forbidden, and maintain 'tis wrong
To grace the feast with merry tale or song.
And thus would banish laughter from the board :
To such we answer — Be the jest abhorr'd.

FOSTSCBIPT. 279

And ftpum'd the lay, thoagh GeoiuB point the

rhyme,
That sport with suflPering or make Kght of crime.
We loathe the wit, however bright its flame,

Which sates its appetite on sacred things ;

Or, veil'd beneath the inuendo, bmgs
On Beauty's cheek the burning blush of shame.
Ours be die summer lightning of the brain.
That scathes not while it flashes. We maintain
That there is in this chequer'd scene of earth
Much that's legitimately food for mirth.

We take it 't will, on all hands, be confess'd
That they who pour their wrath upon a jest.
By consequence, extend their ban to laughter,
(How justly, we shall hope to shew hereafter)
Since that the last, if not the younger brother,
Is certainly the offspring of the other.
Now, censor, turn your eyes on yon fair child,
Hark to his shout of laughter loud and wild.
And tell us, can you deem his mirth a crime ?
Or, if you urge that what, in childhood's prime,
Is harmless, must be rank'd in manhood's sins.
Pray tell us at what age the crime begins.

But, if you still persist, and hold the blame
In childhood and maturity the same.

280 POSTSCRIPT.

Why was the faculty of laughing given
To man, of all the creatures under heaven ?
The answer is most obvious : To use it,
Although, like other faculties, of mind
As well as body, he *s too oft inclined.
In his innate perverseness, to abuse it.
Still unconvinced? Well, if you'd turn us round
On this, we'll e'en resort to higher ground.

** There is a time to laugh," 'tis written, and we
trace

The text with reverence, yet take our stand
On its authority to prove our case :
" There is a time to laugh ;" not when the hand,
That, in the strife, would fain have dealt the

blow,
To smite our fame or fortunes, is laid low,
And cannot crush the worm that twines around it,
So fast and firm mortality hath bound it !
** There is a time to laugh ;" but not in scorn
Of human frailty, since th' unblunted thorn

Of conscience is its punishment on earth ;
** There is a time to laugh ;" but not to swell
The ribald's triumph, when he rings the knell

Of Virtue in his rude, unhallow'd mirth.

But is the laugh forbid, when evening closes,
When curtains are drawn round, and candles lit;

1

PEKNSrLVAMj,

POSTSCKIPT. 288

When, after hours of care, the mind reposes
Safe from the world's turmoil, and all unfit

For grave and metaphysic disquisition,
Turns gladly to the wit-illumined pages

Of Irvine, or of Scott, the great magician
And caterer of mirth for future ages ?

And may not Anecdote produce her hoard,

And Fancy's playful flashes cheer the board ?

We could swell out our list of reasons wherefore,
Tis not a sin to laugh, but 't will not need ; —
Besides, our article would much exceed

Our limits and the reader's patience ; therefore.

We'll take our congi of the sombre school.
And tell them, though their dogmas we con-
demo,
We 're better-nurtured than to laugh at them :

Meanwhile, we close our essay with a rule,
Which, borrow'd from the name of some old

play,
Is, Laugh, not when you can, but when you may.

Farewell ! our task is ended, and we close
Our volume of rough sketches, such as those
Which strew the limner's studio : scnne have ta'en
Their origin in fancy ; some, again.

M4 P08T8CRIFT.

Were dnwn from life: and wotdd you furthet

•can,

And, at our han^, criteria ejtact.

By which to knotr the fiction from the fact,—

We answer. Such is do part of our plan ;

Since, though we range the world fbr comicalities,

We deal not in oSennre personalities.

THE END.

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oolourea sroups. Price 16s, per number.

PORTRAIT OF REBECCA, ftom IVANHOE. Painted by Go-
baud ; Engraved by T. Lupton. Slxe, 81 inches by 16. Price, prooft,
U, 10». ; jprints, 15*. ; coloured. 1/. 1 U. 6d.
PORTRAIT OF FLORA MACDONALD. Same sise and price.
THE WHITE LADY OF AVENEL, from the Abbot. Same siae
andprice.
AMY ROBS ART, from Kenilworth. Same size and price.
CLARA MOWBRAY, from St. Ronan's Well Same siae and
price.

N.B. These Portraits are of the same class as the celebrated prints
of Painteraf Mistresses, published by R. Ackermann ; viz. Mad. Lun-
dens, after Rubens ; Mad. Vanmaelcter, after Vandyke; La Belle FTa»-
catone, aifter Raphael ; Ad^le la V^tienne, after Tintoretto.

REMBRANDT, after the celebrated Portrait in the Ring's Col-
lection. Engraved in Mezzotinto, by Harvey. Proofs, 7«< 6d. ; prints,
5».

PHILOSOPHER MEDITATING. Engraved in Mezzotinto, after
Rembrandt, by Ward. Size, 8 inches by 7* Price 4s.

THE WRECKERS OFF FORT ROUGE. Calais in the Dit-
tance. Painted by C. Stanfield, and Engraved in Mezzotint by J. P.
Quilly. Size, 26i inches by 19^. Prints, 21«. ; proofs, 428.

A VIEW OF THE PALAIS DE JUSTICE AT ROUEN.
Painted by S. Prout. Coloured and mounted in imitation of the
original Drawings. Size, 22 inches by 17. Price 1/. 5«.; ditto, in
sheets, 1^ 1«.

A VIEW OF THE CATHEDRAL AT ULM, to match ditto.
Same size and price.

A VIEW OF THE HOTEL DE VILLE AT LOUVAIN. By
the same Artist. Size, 24 inches by 19, forming a centre print to the
above. Price 1/. lOa. mounted ; or U. 5s, in sh^ts.

ROWTON, the Winner of the Great St. L^er Stakes, at Don-
caster, 1829. Painted by J. Femeley; engraved by C. Turner. Size,
20 inches by 16. Prints, 7«* 6d.; proofs mi India paper, 15*.; highly
coloured, 15s.

PRIAM, the Winner of the D^by Stakes, at Epsom, 1830. Painted
by J. Femeley. Same size and price, and forming a companion to
Rowton.

A PORTRAIT OF VELOCIPEDE, the Winner of the St.
Leger, from a Painting by J. Ferneley, of Melton Mowbray. En-
graved by Messrs. E. Duncan and J. Webb. Price I6s. coloured.

A PORTRAIT OF CADLAND, Winner of the Derby. Painted by
J. Ferneley. Price 15*. coloured.

PORTRAIT OF SPANIEL, Winner of the Derby, 1831. Highly
coloured, price 15s.

THE LAST GRAND STEEPLE CHASE OVER LEICESTER-
SHIRE, giving Portraits of the Riders and Horses, with Remarks by
Nimrod, in a series of eight coloured Plates. By H. Aiken ; Engraved
by Bentley. Size, 18 inches by 14 each. Price, the set, 31. 3s.

THE EXTRAORDINARY STEEPLE CHASE between Mr.
Osbaldestone's Clasher and Capt. Ross's Clinker. Highly coloured.
Size, 22 inches by 1&. Price, 1/. Is.

THR CELEBRATED TOM THUMB. Engraved from the ori-
ginal Painting by Mr. C. F. Turner, expressly for Mr. H. England, who
trained this celebrated horse. Highly coloured, price 20».
MY STUD. Six Plates, by Aiken. Highly coloured, price 2U.
A FRENCH DILIGENCE. By Henderson. 17i inches by 10|.
Coloured, price 7«* 6d.

288

THE PASSIONS OF THE HORSE, in a lerics of six Dnwb^
IM ii M*^ by 16. Dokcned and executed on Stone by H. B. Chaloo.
Animal Painter to HI* H»ieuy, Piice, plain, IL 11«. fti.; proofii od
India paper, «. IS*. 6d.

POl-AoUNDS IN THEIR KEKNEL. Painted by R. B. Dsn,
Animal Painter to the King, cm Stone, by J. W. GOea. Plato, (if.;
ookNired, 10b. M. Fanning a companion to the King's Hairiers. State
ilatandpfflofr

CHALON'S STUDIES OF ANIMALS, 3 Noa. Uthogiaphy, ooh
taining 4 Plates each part. Price Sc

IMITATION DRAWINGS, after eminent Maaten, vis.— A par,
Place de Pucelle and Palace at Dresden, after Prout. Siae 10} indM
by 7|. Price 10*. 6tf. each, mounted.— Nereis Palace, after Deaouloiy.
Vm of Salenche, after Purser. A View, after J. Martin. 9k todba
by 6. Price 7«. 6d. each, mounted — Italian Still Life, 6 Nos. St. U.
each. — Dawe^s Scrap Book, containing 6 menotinto En^vings. Va.
lto6. Price 6s. each No.; and to be continued.

THIRTEEN INDIA PROOF IMPRESSIONS, large pnier, fiom
the present ** Forget Me Not,** in a neat Portfolio, S4«. ; a tew oopia
befofe the letters. 90c.

HIS MAJESTY KINO WILLIAM IV. Painted by Jagger; En-
graved by Dawe. Siie, IS indies by 9^. Price, prints, IS*.

DITTO. Siae, fii inches by 4i. Proofo, lOr. 6d. and 7«. 6d. ; piintt,
5t.

A GENERAL VIEW OF THE POST OFFICE. Slae, 14 incba
by 8. Price 6*. coloured.

A PANORAMIC VIEW ROUND THE REGENT'S PARK; i
faithful representation of the degant buildings and interesting dgecti
of that delightful spot. Length 1 8i feeL H&hly coloured, in a foUo,
price aOt, ; in a circular Tunbridge case, 31«. 6tf .

COLOURED VIEWS on the LIVERPOOL and MANCHESTER
RAILWAY, with Plates of the Coadies, Machines, &c from drawingi
made on the spot by Mr. T. T. Bury. 8 Parts, each containing 6
Views and one Plate of Machines, 18s. each part.

A NEW SC RAP TITLE. Intended to embelliah either Scrap Boob
or Albums. Highly coloured, price 5s.

A SERIES OF TWELVE KNIGHTS IN ARMOUR, &c Plain,
Ss. ; highly coloured, 18«., adapted to transferring upcm white wood.

TWjElVE DESIGNS, chiefly intended for transferring upon white
wood, by means of Ackermann's Caustic or Transfer Varnish, and for
studies m drawing. Part I. cCTisisting oi twelve Landscapes; Part II.
twelve groups of Figures; Part III. Cattle. Plain, 7«.; India paper,
git.; colourea, ISa, each Part.

NEW BORDERS for transferring, various designs, 1«. fid. per sheet

N.B. Lvge collections of subjects for transferring constantly iin>
ported twm France. White Wood Articles of every ifescription.
ni LARGE COLLECTION OF DRAWINGS AND PRINTS for
Scrap Books and Albums.

R. ACKERMANN'S SUPERFINE AND PERMANENT WA-
TER COLOURS AND DRAWING MATERIALS OF EVERY
DESCRIPTION.

London: J. Moyes, 88, Castle Street, Leicester Square. />

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